A Disguise For the Desired
by KimDavenport
Summary: Loki has finally found a girl of his dreams. She is intelligently challenging, dashingly beautiful, and has an air for adventure that he is sorely lacking in his life. But her identity is shrouded in disappearance and mystery. Is he really falling for the girl, or only the disguise she has created?
1. Chapter 1

Cecelia strutted through the forest, savoring the tightness of her bodice and highness of her shoes. Her heels raised her above the rest of the world, and forced a certain elegant straightness into her step.

Around her thin ankles swished the fullness of her white skirts, covered across with intricate golden designs and symbols. These became more concentrated the near her waist. The bodice of her dress was trimmed with lace, and folded smoothly into curve across her chest. Her pale pink lips had been enhanced by copious amounts of red stain, and her entire face shinned with the fullest extent nobility makeup had to offer.

Her blonde hair had been woven through with strands of gold, and curled into such tight curls that they scarcely quivered as she bobbed her way down the path.

Her eyes had been lined with dark charcoal and sprinkled with fine gold dust. These additions slightly dulled her bright green pupils, but they could still be seen clearly under her glossy lashes. In her hand she clutched a soft leather purse, which was embroidered with gold floss, woven in the designs of ancient cultures. Her entire essence stated nobility and rank.

Any passerby who saw her would have assumed that she was on her way to a fancy party, perhaps a ball fit for a king or a dance fashioned by the gods themselves. Cecelia, however, had done herself up in such a manner simply to be allowed this walk through the forest. Although she carried herself with nothing less of the grace of highest nobility, she still seemed to be exhibiting some highly strange habits no noble would ever partake in.

"Why good evening Reginald," she greeted a bolder laying along the side of her path. "I really am so glad you could make it. We must talk more later, but you need to excuse me now, as I need to greet our guest of honor."

And moving away from the bolder, she continued along her path until she reached a high tree, which was growing onto the trail, reaching its roots across the path.

Stooping into a perfect curtsy, Cecelia bowed her head to the tree. "Why hello your majesty, I am so very glad you could attend. Are you enjoying the party?" The girl then inclined her head to the tree, as though expecting an answer. None came, of course; at least none that anyone else could hear. Cecelia's face, however, lit up in happiness at some news only she could hear, and she excitedly exclaimed, "Why I am so very happy to hear that! Enjoy the rest of the night, if you will."

And dropping into a quick curtsy once again, Cecelia continued on her way. As she made her way past a bush, the leaves began to shake ferociously, and a squirrel popped out from between the branches right into her path, clutching an acorn in its tiny claws.

"Why our guest of honor has finally arrived!" exclaimed Cecelia happily to the extremely confused squirrel. "I am so happy you were able to make time for us. I understand your nut collecting had kept you very busy this year. I am sure our abundance of refreshment and conversation will give you some time to put your mind at ease." And she sank into her deepest, and perhaps most ridiculously intended curtsey yet.

The squirrel, now thoroughly alarmed, secured its nut only tighter in its grasp before bounding across the path for an opposite tree, scurrying quickly up the branches.

Cecelia watched it go with a smile on her face.

Once the wild creature was completely out of sight, Cecelia turned around to the rest of her forest. "Just because our guest of honor his had to scurry off doesn't mean we need to let the festivities come to an end," she assured her other forest guests.

Approaching a nearby Willow, Cecelia sunk into a dramatic bow and raised her hand questioningly. "Would you care to dance with me, fair Willow? The band is about to play my favorite song."

Cecelia grasped the Willows' delicate branches and begin to sway back and forth with the tree, as though she truly believed it be an adequate dancing partner. Soon, however, the static Willow could not keep up with Cecelia's own movements, and she began to move away from tree. She twirled alone with her eyes closed, moving in perfect rhythm with an imaginary partner.

Cecelia's high heeled shoes crunched across the dead leaves in the path, and her hair fluttered behind her in the delicate breeze blowing through the trees as she swayed and twirled. She gently complimented her partner, and inquired about how his business was faring. So engrossed was she with her imaginary company, that she did not notice when another, quite real figure, came up behind her from the clearing.

"The two of you have found quite a rhythm together," said a mysterious and curious voice. "You must let me know where you studied together."

Cecilia spun on the spot, her relaxed demeanor dropping in a second.

"Who are you?" she asked in an accusatory tone, far from the delicate murmur she has been using with her imaginary guests.

"How is it that every other object in your path gets a curtsy and a polite greeting, but I get shouted at?" inquired the man in a mockingly hurt voice.

Cecelia narrowed her eyes at the stranger. He was tall and thin, but fairly well built. He wore a dark green leather tunic, accompanied with black pants and boots. He had long dark hair, which was swept back from his pale face. The darkness of his apparel only seemed to greater highlight his green eyes, which stood out like a tropical bird amongst flock of city pigeons. Cecelia took a deep breath as she cast a gaze into those eyes. They seemed to mimic sparkling emeralds, and they reminded her of her own. Never had she met someone with such eyes filled with curious mischief. They held a sense of adventure that frightened and excited her at the same time.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, in a slightly softer tone.

The man rolled his eyes, as though her question was a mundane inquiry far below him. "Walking. Just like you. Surely I have just as much right to be here as you. Perhaps even talk to a few boulders if I feel like it."

"You're mocking me."

"Goodness no, although I am curious as to why such a beautiful figure as yourself would feel the need to socialize with rocks and trees in their free time."

Cecelia continued to watch the man suspiciously. When she did not answer, he continued to speak.

"There are only two reasons I can think of. One, you are completely mad and out of your mind, which I really hope is not the case. Two, you have simply given up finding real people worth spending time with in this vicious world and so have resorted to creating your own social counterparts. I do dearly hope it is the latter."

"Well you sure have a dour view of the world."

He laughed. Cecelia nearly stepped back at the sound. It was such a pleasant laugh, she wouldn't have expected such a joyous sound to usher from one with such an unpleasant look fixed on his face.

"You would rather me be displeased with the world and all company I find in it then to be crazy? I would think both to be an equal descent into despair."

"Well now who's sounding all dour?" The mysterious man smiled at her. "But if it is neither, then why do you do it?"

Cecelia sighed. He seemed like a nice boy. Perhaps he could be trusted with a fragment of the truth. That would be all she would trust him with, of course.

"I just do not have as much time as I would like to spend with people whose company I enjoy," said Cecelia sadly, gazing back into the forest. "When I come out into nature to contemplate my situation I imagine the relationships I could have, and I suppose sometimes I get a bit carried away."

"Well then, my guess was right was it not? You have realized the ridiculousness of the people in this world and that none of them can be much better company then a rock." His eyes held a hint of despondency with his retort.

"No, it is not!" exclaimed Cecelia. "I do not think everyone in the world is a poor company; I just don't seem to be able to meet enough interesting people for my fancy. That's all."

The man smiled even more broadly at her words. He reached out his hand.

"Well in that case, I would like to introduce myself. I am Loki, and I would be honored if you give me the chance to prove to you that I am one of the few in this universe you should be spending your time with."

Cecelia nearly laughed. "You would still try to learn more about me after viewing my craziness? Are you not worried I might be even stranger the more you learn?"

"Well then I suppose that is something I will have to find out as I get to know you better." He did not retract his hand, but instead held it higher, beckoning to her.

Cecelia smiled and reached her hand out to grasp his. With a firm tug he pulled her closer to himself, closing the distance between them in one fluid movement.

"Ooh," exclaimed Cecelia, surprised. Placing his other hand on her waist, he began to dance, matching his steps to the dance she had been doing previously with the willow tree.

"You dance very well," complimented Cecelia, falling into rhythm with him.

"Almost as well as your willow friend?"

"I must admit that your ability is an even match; you are, however, a much better companion for conversation."

Loki acknowledged her comment with a smile, spinning her out away from him in a delicate arc, and catching her perfectly as she spun back towards him.

"So you know why I have come here," she continued. "May I ask what brings you out here to the secluded woods? Here too—how did you put it?— avoid 'spending time with the useless people in this vicious world'?"

Loki laughed lightly. "I must admit the secluded feeling of the forest calls to me often. I come here to seek companionship in the peacefulness. The woods often grant me many majestic wonders to distract me from my troubles. None of them have ever been this beautiful, however." And he winked at her. Cecelia ducked her head slightly to hide her blush. When she lifted it again, Loki was still watching her. She coughed and turned her head to the side, pretending to focus on the rhythm of the dance they were creating.

"So you come to this part in nature often?" she inquired, trying to ignore his gaze.

"Not this particular forest, but others. Where I live, there is a huge garden I often walk in with many paths into the forest. I had never wondered quite this deep before."

"I come here when I truly want to be sure I am alone. No one is here but the woodland creatures and the friends one imagines."

"Sounds like an excellent location to host an elegant soireé. I must say you are quite the woodland host." Cecelia caught an air of mockery in his voice, but she choose to ignore it.

"I absolutely adore parties is all. When I was younger, my father and I used to attend a dance nearly every week. Sometimes they would be elegant dinners, other times they would be balls. I grew to love the lights, and the food, and of course the dancing!"

"Whenever I throw my next party, I will be sure to invite both you and your father. You must come and save me from the dull company my family usually invites."

"That is very kind of you, Loki." Cecelia smiled at him. She decided not to correct him about her father; the more of identity that remained shrouded, the better.

"Well you know my name now, but I am lost to know yours. Would you do me the honor of enlightening me as to who I am sharing this dance with?"

Cecelia hesitated a moment. "Cela" she blurted after a moment.

"Cela?" Loki mused. "That is quite an interesting name."

"My father choose it," she said quickly, ducking under his arm and spinning so that her skirts flew out about her legs. "He wanted me to have a name unlike any other."

"Well, he certainly achieved that. I do like it." Loki's smile told her he liked something more about her besides her name.

The two of them continued their dance for a few more steps, swaying peacefully in silence amongst the trees. Cecelia was completely enamored with Loki. He seemed so sure of his steps in a dance they were making up together. Everything about their forest path seemed magical.

An evening loon called in the distance. Quickly, Cecelia shook herself out of her happy stupor. She had duties to attend to.

"I must be going," she said quickly, stepping out of the magical dance. "People will begin to wonder where I am."

"Of course," nodded Loki. "Thank-you for such a delightful dance." He bowed deeply to her, and she curtseyed gracefully.

"It was an honor." She said, smiling. "You have outshined every dance partner I have ever met in these woods."

"That is a title I will hold onto dearly," laughed Loki.

Cecelia turned and began to make her way down the path. It was not until she was out of range of hearing that something occurred to Loki.

"Wait!" he called quickly. "Can we meet again?"

Cecelia did not turn back, however, as she could not hear him.

Smiling to himself, he turned and began to make his way back where he had come. As he passed the willow tree Cecelia had been first dancing with, he saw a leather purse sitting at the base. Quickly stooping to pick it up, Loki saw that is was embroidered with the golden symbols of Asgardian nobility.

"Wait!" he called again, turning around. "Cela, I have your purse!" But she was nowhere to be found. Cecelia had completely disappeared into the woods.

Loki tucked the purse safely into his pocket. He would return to see her again, and he would deliver the purse back to its rightful owner.

heh

Cecelia dashed up to her house. Pausing behind the chicken pen, she pulled off the gown and bunched it tightly under her arm.

She then ducked her head and ran along the house until she reached the servants' entrance. Slipping inside, she made her way through the kitchens into the storeroom. Ducking low, she hid the gown behind a sack of flour. She yanked the golden threads from her hair and stowed them with the dress, pulling her hair up into a bun behind her head to mask the curls. She pulled out her own dress then, a simple creation with no figure and made of plain brown fabric. Pulling it over her head, she quickly exchanged her glamorous golden heals for a pair of tan flats, and made sure the entire folds of golden riches were well hidden in the flour sacks.

Then she made her way carefully out of the storeroom, through the kitchens again, and into the servant's wing. Once she ducked into her shabby room, she sank down onto the bed and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was a small room, with a bed, dresser, and washing bowl. In contained no flatteries or decoration aside from a small mirror above the washbowl. Standing delicately, Cecelia made her way to the washing bowl and scrubbed any evidence of nobility makeup from her face. Peering into the tinted mirror above her bowl, Cecelia was satisfied with her altered appearance. Now that her makeup was gone, a sprinkling of freckles fell across her nose and cheeks. Her lips had retuned to their natural pale pink, and her hair now hung limp and matted against her head. Her eyes were as bright as ever, and without the liner or gold dust to dull them, seemed to stand out with an unreal glow.

She hardly looked like the same person at all.

Smiling at her reflection, Cecelia made her way out to the main hall of the house again to ensure her presence was recognized.

"Celly!" yelled a voice from the stairwell. Cecelia suppressed a groan before turning to face her stepmother.

Edel was a plump and red woman, with thin, wispy brown hair and the attitude of a provoked viper.

"Celly!" yelled the woman again, angrily making her way down the stairs to Cecelia. "Where on earth have you been?"

"I am sorry stepmother, I fell asleep while I was cleaning out the chickens."

"Flightily girl!" exclaimed the woman, retracting at Cecelia's appearance. "Could you at least try not to be a lazy waste of space? Astrior needs your help packing, after all! This is no time for dilly dallying!"

"But of course, I will head right up to her rooms to help."

With Edel shooing her from behind, Cecelia made the climb up the stairs to her stepsister's room. She raised her hand to knock, but her stepmother pushed past her and broke into the door.

"What are you doing?!" exclaimed the haughty girl within. "Oh, it's you," she snapped, calming once she realized it was her mother.

"I brought Celly to help you pack. We must be sure all of your best gowns are prepared. This is your best opportunity, and we must be sure that you are looking your very best if you wish to catch the eye of the princes."

"Yes, of course," mulled Astrior. "But I hardly think Celly will be such a help; her insolence and laziness would do more harm then good, I think."

"I will do my best to assure all of your needs are seen to, m'lady," said Cecelia quickly, dropping into a respectful curtsy.

Astrior sighed deeply as though this decision was giving her great pain, then flicked her hand in the direction of the closet, where her gowns hung.

Cecelia made her way to closet and began to remove the ones she knew to be favorites, folding them gently into transport bags.

Astrior returned to examining herself in her hand mirror. The two stepsisters were as opposite as could be when it came to looks. Everywhere Cecelia was light, Astrior was dark. Everywhere Cecelia was bold, Astrior was bland.

Astrior had tanned skin and a full chest. She had dark luscious hair, which framed her face. Her lips were naturally deep crimson, but one would never know that as they were always coated in layers of nobility makeup. Her eyes were a pale blue, but where most people's eyes had life and an edge of personality to them, hers were simply blue. They did not act like windows into her soul, displaying a part of her personality with a single glance. They simply existed on her face.

"Make sure you pack my red gown, it is sure to catch some eyes. And my green one. And why-where is my white and golden one?" Astrior's tone held an accusatory note.

"I have taken it down to be washed, m'lady," claimed Cecelia without hesitation. "I noticed a stain on the bodice this morning while I was tidying your closet."

"Be sure it is ready for our departure, then," demanded Astrior.

Cecelia nodded that she would, and continued with Astrior's packing.

Edel fussed over her only daughter, admiring her appearance from every angle, and observing each aspect of her look.

"You are the most beautiful creature on this universe!" exclaimed Edel excitedly. "You are sure to catch the princes' eye. You two will be wed and you shall be sitting upon the throne as queen in no time!"

"Of course I will, if Prince Thor has any sense at all about him." agreed Astrior, nodding into her mirror. "I have heard princes have good taste in beauty."

"Of course they do," agreed Edel. "I am so happy Igor's work has called him to the palace so often. This is a fortunate opportunity for all of us!"

Cecelia coughed quietly. Edel spun on her and began listing her demands.

"You will finished packing Astor's gowns, then you will go see that all of our preparations are set for tomorrow. Be ready to leave at dawn."

"What?" asked Cecelia, suddenly alert. "I am going with you? But I thought-"

"Plans have changed," cut in Edel. "While at first Igor thought this was going to be a simple trip, it now appears we will be staying at the palace for some time. Astrior will need a handmaid if she has any hope of capturing the prince's heart. And you, as lazy as you are, are the best we have here."

"But-" Cecelia wanted to protest; Edel faced her with a sinister glare that made it clear there would be no room for discussion. "Of course, madam," nodded Cecelia, returning to her packing.

She had hoped to stay behind, living in the house and working without the presence of her awful Stepmother and Stepsister would have been a blessing. But, she supposed she would have to make do with the current situation.

She was slightly curious about these Asgardian princes, and if they would show any interest in Astrior's attempts to capture their hearts. Perhaps there would be something worthwhile viewing at the royal palace of Asgard.

* * *

A/N-Hey everyone! This is my first long Loki fic, and I am super excited about it! I think it's going to be about 20 chapters long, so let's make that goal! Thank-you for reading and please review! I love to hear constructive critisism! Have a wonderful Saturday!~Kim


	2. Chapter 2

The morning came with much yelling and squawking. Firstly, from the chickens when Cecelia headed out in the morning to tend to them. Then, later, when Edel saw the sight of her skirts.

"Mud! Mud on your skirts! For goodness sakes child, we are going to the royal palace not a scullery! Change that mess at once! I'm trying to get my daughter a husband, after all!" And she beat Cecelia back into the kitchen with her skirts.

Cecelia bit back her tongue to avoid pointing out that if Edel wanted her skirts to remain clean, perhaps she shouldn't assign her so much yard work. And if she wanted her to have a ready supply of clean dresses, she should give her more then the two smocks she was allowed.

Nonetheless, Cecelia kept her mouth shut and retired quickly to her room, where she did her best to scrub off the excess mud and chicken droppings into the washbowl. There wasn't much, and her other dress had already been packed, so this would have to do for now.

By the time she returned to the main hall, Edel was too busy yelling at the poor carriage boy who had been sent to fetch them to notice the hem of Cecelia's dress.

"What do you mean my husband isn't with you? He said he'd be coming to accompany us to the palace!"

"I am sorry ma'am," stuttered the carriage boy nervously. "But as I have already said, Master Igor was caught up in a meeting with the king and could not make it. He will be waiting for you at the palace, however, and I assure you I can get you and your daughter to the palace safely."

Edel 'humped' rather loudly and spun away from him to yell at their butler, who was heaving a trunk nearly as large as himself into the back of the carriage.

"Mother! Mother!" shirked Astrior, dashing down the front steps of the house. "Have you seen my eye charcoal? I cannot find it anywhere! I am simply beside myself!"

"No no dear, of course I haven't. Why would I have it?"

"Well who else could have taken it?" cried Astrior, near to tears. With a dawn of realization, she suddenly turned onto Cecelia. "You, girl. You were packing my bags. Did you pack away my eye charcoal?"

Cecelia took a step back from Astrior's accusatory stare. Quickly, she tried to think back to her packing. "I do believe I put it in your traveling case, m'lady."

"You fool!" exclaimed Astrior. "I had specifically left that case on my desk so I could complete my look before departure! Now I am going to be making one of the most important meetings of my life, and I am going to have dull eyes while I do it!"

"There, dear, you mustn't fuss, you'll ruin your curls." said Edel soothingly. "You can unpack and apply it as soon as we arrive. But we mustn't take time to unpack now; it will do no good to appear tardy." And throwing Cecelia a scathing look, Edel led her beloved child into the carriage.

Cecelia sighed deeply, dreading her ride beside those two in the cramped carriage.

After helping the butler secure the bags and assuring everything was tidy and safe for their trip, Cecile mounted the carriage as well, and tried to make herself small against the back of the carriage. Edel and Astrior ignored her the entire ride, gossiping amongst themselves about gowns and the best ways to catch the prince's attention.

Cecile was quite happy to be left alone, as she usually was. She used the time of peace to stare at the passing countryside. They passed mansions every so often, interspaced with more moderate dwelling places for the lesser folk throughout. The noble manors grew in size and embellishment as they grew closer to the palace.

When they finally arrive, Cecelia gazed up in awe at the grandest mansion yet. The palace seemed to be nearly glowing, so covered was it in gold. Cecelia had heard tales of its grandeur and beauty from her stepfather on his trips back home, but she had never imagined such greatness. She was eager to see the king and queen, and if their beauty matched the tales often told about them. Also the princes, whom she had never seen either, but whom she had heard were quite the handsome duo.

A royal butler approached the carriage and introduced himself, releasing the carriage boy of his duties.

"Your bags will be brought up to your rooms, and I will take you there myself. Your husband will be joining you there soon, Mrs., and you are all invited to dine with the king's family in the royal hall tonight."

As they made their way through the castle, Edel overpowered the butler with grand compliments about the palace, while Astiror shielded her unleaded eyes from view as best she could with her hand and hair.

Cecelia, however, walked a few steps behind them, looking around the place with interest. Guards made regular routes around the halls, their swords and armor glinting whenever they passed one of the massive windows. As they passed a large porch, Cecelia got a breathtaking view of the rainbow bridge leading to the bifrost.

Although such a massive castle surely needed many servants to attend to it, Cecile never caught more then a glimpse of a maid or butler ducking into a room or a back staircase. She assumed the servant entrances and quarters were another completely underground society within the walls of the castle, and out in the main living quarters servants were only seen if they were accompanying their noble.

"Here we are," claimed the butler at last, leading them to large white double-doors. "Mrs. Edel, this is your husbands' room, where you will be staying with him. Mistress Astrior, your room is across the hall. Your room has an accompanying chamber for your handmaiden, of course."

"Thank-you kind sir, this will be lovely," cut in Edel. "Thank-you for the tour, we must excuse ourselves now to freshen up."

"Of course, if you need anything else, let one of our servants know, and they will be happy to assist you." Bowing low, the butler turned and walked away.

"Well," chimed Edel, turning to her daughter and clapping her hands together delightedly. "This is quite nice, isn't it? Now you must prepare yourself, daughter. Igor tells me that the royal family always dines together, and as you heard the butler say, we will be eating with the king tonight. Prepare yourself to see the prince. First impressions count for everything, dear, so be sure you are ready. I myself am going to have a bit of a lie-down; I am feeling rather tired from travel. I will come check on you before we leave for dinner."

Astrior nodded solemnly, and continued to look at floor.

"And you," snarled Edel, acknowledging Cecelia for the first time since they had left their own home. "Unpack Astrior's things and help her fix her hideous makeup. Once you have prepared her rooms, come to mine. I'll need you to unpack my bags, clear my bedchambers, and freshen my sitting rooms. You know I cannot begin to think unless my rooms are exactly the way I like them."

"Yes ma'am," agreed Cecelia, curtsying deeply to her stepmother.

Edel flounced off to her rooms, and Cecelia led Astrior to the rooms assigned to her. As Cecelia opened the door, she caught her breath. The room was spacious and golden, with every possible beauty imaginable. The bed was soft and hung with lacy curtains, the closet was huge, and off to the left the window doors opened to a huge deck.

Cecelia looked in awe at the majestic scene around her, and just for a moment was lost in pure adoration for the palace.

Then Astrior pushed past her and began rustling in her bags.

"Close the door you lazy girl! And get my bags unpacked! How am I supposed to do a thing in this mess?"

Cecelia sighed. "Yes mistress," she nodded, hurrying forward to help Astrior search for her eye charcoal.

For the rest of the day, Cecelia was shooed around by her stepmother and stepsister. They had her unpack their bags, arrange their gowns and makeup counters, and clean their bathrooms over again because Edel claimed the palace staff hadn't done it well enough.

After that they had to bath, have their hair and makeup perfected, and be lavishly dressed for their meal.

It took Cecelia at least an hour to choose an outfit Astrior would agree to wearing, and even then she was not completely satisfied. She spent half the night yelling at Cecelia to move faster and the other half reminding her that she was out to get a husband, after all.

After all of the mess, Cecelia would have been happy to be left alone to go to bed with her thoughts. She felt achy and sore, and didn't fancy the idea of trying to make herself presentable for the royal family. Of course, Edel insisted.

"What if Astrior should need something at dinner? You forget this is her entire future we are talking about! You must go and be there for her!"

So, at seven o clock, tired, grudging, and feeling rather irked at the world, Cecelia entered the main hall of the palace with the rest of her family.

She was there as Astrior's handmaiden, of course, so she took up a position standing along the wall of the dinning hall while her family were shown to her seats.

Cecelia choose a place she could stand so she was somewhat secluded from the hustle and bustle, but could still see what was going on. She might be tired, but Astrior was going to try to catch the eye of some of the most important people in Asgard tonight. Cecelia was sure she wouldn't want to miss it.

"King Odin, and Queen Frigga!" announced the guard by the door, and everyone rose as the king and his wife entered the dinning hall.

The pair looked just as important and royal as Cecelia would have expected. King Odin's missing eye only added to his look of wise authority, and Frigga was as beautiful and fair as the land described her.

"Prince Thor, son of Odin, and Prince Loki!" announced the guard.

Cecelia nearly yelped in surprise. Marching in through the dinning room door was—Loki! _Her_ Loki!

Despite looking much more serious now, his face dressed in a frown rather then a laugh, there was no mistaking prince Loki for the man she had met and danced with in the forest only the day before.

Cecile was frozen in place. As she watched the royal family take their seats, she felt her heart flutter strangely.

He had never mentioned that he was a prince. Of course, to be fair, she had never asked. She assumed something like that would be expected in the introductions.

Would he remember her? She felt her pulse race as she tried to catch the prince's eye.

What would Edel say if she knew Cecelia was on talking terms with the Prince of Asgard? After trying so hard to get her own daughter into that kind of position? Cecelia nearly laughed to herself in glee.

Loki was not focusing on the introductions being made at the main table. His eyes glazed over Astrior and her mother, only pausing long enough to nod his head respectfully in their direction.

Cecile caught her breath as his eyes began sliding towards her-any moment now he would see her, and he would be sure to recognize her.

What would he think? All of a sudden, Cecelia wanted nothing more then to disappear. She had been dressed as a noble lady when he had met her! In a gown and makeup stolen from her step-sister in an attempt to hold on to the happy past when her father was alive, and she had such fine things for herself.

She was no noble lady, and now he would know.

But there was nothing she could do about it. She could not flee from the dinning hall, as that would only draw more attention from herself, and she could not hide her face. She just needed to wait and see how Prince Loki reacted.

She needn't have worried, however. Loki's eyes passed right over her and on to the entrance to the kitchens, where servants baring steaming plates of food were now entering.

"Let us eat!" proclaimed Odin, and everyone took their seats.

Loki had done an excellent job of hiding the fact that they knew one another. But as the night went on, Cecelia began to wonder if he truly was simply pretending, or if he really didn't recognize her.

Despite her trying to catch his eye many times throughout the meal, Loki never showed any hint of recognition. When Astrior called her forward and asked for her help arranging a stray curl, Loki merely ignored her. He never acknowledged in any way that he had shared a dance with her in the forest.

Odin and Igor talked on an on about affairs in Asgard. Astrior tried flirting with prince Thor many times by showing off her dazzling lipsticked smile. Edel shouted loudly compliments to the king and queen, sucking down wine by the glass as she did so. And through it all, Loki stubbornly ignored Cecelia, keeping focused instead on his food.

His expression was forced and somewhat sour; very different from the laughing man Cecelia had met in the woods. He might look a little different, but she could easily recognize him. Why didn't he recognize her?

It was because of her look, she realized with a sinking feeling. She had looked like a noble woman before. She no longer did. When she had been a glamorous woman in a golden dress with makeup, he had noticed her. But now, she was just a servant, and he would never try to make conversation with such a person.

heh

By the end of the night, Cecelia was more then ready to retire up to her chambers, help Astrior ready for bed, and hide herself away in her small, closet-like extension of Astrior's room.

Flinging herself onto her bed, Cecelia began to cry. She had been hurt earlier, when the butler had assumed right away that she was Astrior's handmaiden without a second thought. But Loki's non-recognition stung much more.

There was a time when she had been more. She had been a noble woman. She had learned all of the noble things, like needlework and proper greeting. Her father and her had been kings in their dominion. They had attended parties together, danced, and laughed. She had been in a magical world where a bright future awaited her.

If only her father hadn't died. If only she hadn't been left in the wretched care of her stepmother.

Now she was nobody. A nothing that people didn't bother to look at or to ask its name. That was all she would ever be to anyone, Loki included.

He never wanted to know her, he wanted to know the girl who wore a beautiful gown and danced in the forest in elegant shoes with highlighted cheeks.

Cecelia rolled onto her side and buried her face into her pillow as more tears fell. Silently, she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

A/N- Aww! That was a sad ending. :( Don't worry, it gets better soon! But it has to get a little bit worse first...

So I've decided on a posting plan for this story; look out for new chapters every Saturday and Wednesday! Things might change as my time fluxuates, but that's what I'm aiming to stick to! Thank-you all for reading, and please leave me a review if you feel like it! I love hearing what people have to say! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Despite her realization the night before that Loki wanted nothing to do with her as a maidservant, Cecelia could not help but try to catch his eye for the entirety of breakfast the next morning with the royal family.

Loki remained completely oblivious to her attempts, however, and was decidedly focused throughout the whole meal on staring sourly at his breakfast.

Still, Cecelia was not ready to give up. He had been such a kind man in the forest, and she was sure that if he just got a chance to look at her, maybe he would remember her. Perhaps he just saw her as a servant like everyone else did, and had thus not paid her much attention last night. What she needed was some face-to-face communication so that he could see and recognize her.

Cecelia watched the table carefully. Just as Loki was about to leave, she excused herself to Astrior, claiming she wanted to ready their bedroom and be sure it would be ready for her lady's return. Astrior shooed her away absentmindedly, too busy focusing on looking interested in prince Thor. He was currently regaling the table in one of his tales of heroism, with much good-natured joking and jabs at himself thrown in. Edel's laugh was an octave too high to be natural, and Astrior was quite plainly inching her way closer to the prince as he told his story. Thor did not seem to notice, or perhaps he did not mind their rude actions, too caught up in trying to make his guests feel welcome.

As Loki rose to leave, Cecelia slipped from the hall, and stood quietly outside the door. A moment later, Loki came striding through, his mind clearly somewhere else and his ever-present frown on his face.

Bending her shoulders slightly, Cecelia quickly made her way to him, walking faster as her nerves grew.

The two collided in the entryway.

"Oh!" exclaimed Cecelia as she fell to the floor, knocked backwards by her own force and his firm figure.

"My dear!" said Loki, taking a step back. He was knocked off-balance momentarily, but he managed to stay on his feet.

"I am terribly sorry prince Loki," said Cecelia, looking up and being sure to make full eye contact with his emerald-green eyes. They still showed no signs of recognition, however.

"It's quite alright," said Loki kindly, his frown from earlier disappearing. He bent down and offered her his hand, helping her to her feet.

"I'm afraid I wasn't quite paying attention to where I was going," said Cecelia carefully, not breaking eye contact.

"I'm afraid I was in the same situation, too caught up in my own thoughts."

Cecelia laughed to herself at how true that was. Then, realizing he was still a prince, dipped into a curtsy.

"I am handmaiden to Lady Astrior," she said.

"Really?" said Loki distractedly. "And what is your name?"

"Cecelia," she answered immediately. She was still watching him carefully, pleading him with her eyes to recognize her. He, however, was showing no signs of recognition, and was now preparing to make his departure.

"Well, miss Cecelia, I wish you all the best and hope you have a lovely day. Now, if you excuse me, I have some very important matters to attend to." And nodding to her, he stepped around her and made his way back up to the royal family's quarters.

Cecelia watched him go, praying he would turn around with a sudden gasp of realization.

He did not, however, and continued striding decisively until he turned a corner and was out of view.

heh

"These gowns are simply horrendous!" exclaimed Astrior. "They are dull and dirty and wrinkled!"

"But Lady Astrior," said Cecelia tiredly. "I just cleaned and pressed those dresses before we left; you approved them for packing yourself."

"Well that was when we were there! At home in a little house with not prince and king watching over us at every meal!" exclaimed Astrior angrily, throwing an armful of blue velvet at Cecelia's head. "I am trying to capture the attentions of one of the most powerful men in the land, and I won't be able to do that in a horribly stained and limp dressing smock! Take these down to the palace laundry at once and get them sorted out!"

"Of course, right away," curtsied Cecelia. She made her way to the closet and scooped up the five dresses Astrior had claimed this morning were not ready enough to show her off to the prince of Asgard. Red satin, blue velvet, and Green cotton overflowed in Cecelia's arms.

Among the dresses Astrior had demanded to be rewashed was the white one Cecelia had borrowed without Astrior's knowledge for her frolic in the woods. Astrior claimed it smelled like the inside of a kitchen store room, and Cecelia wondered how Astrior's sense of kitchen storeroom scents was so good, seeing as she had never stepped foot in one.

Unsteadily, Cecelia made her way out of the room and closed the door behind her.

It was then that she realized she had absolutely no idea where the palace laundry rooms were.

Biting her lip nervously, she decided to head down to the kitchens. They were the only things she knew around here where there were bound to be servants, some of whom would surely be able to direct her to the laundry.

Bunching the dresses tightly in her arms, Cecile made her way downstairs to the kitchens. She slipped away quietly into the dining hall. To see it in it's completely empty state was rather strange. The dim lamps and bare table looked rather foreboding. Quickly, Cecile crossed the room and pushed open the doors to the kitchens.

Here, things were much more active. Pies were being baked, meat was being grilled, and vegetables were being chopped. Cecilia tried to stay out of the way of people who looked like they could not be interrupted. Frantic chefs wielding multiple sharp knives, for example.

She approached a woman standing by a low table, rolling out dough.

"Excuse me?" asked Cecelia.

The woman looked up immediately, throwing a bit of flour onto Cecelia as she did.

"I'm sorry dear," said the woman kindly, as Celia made to brush the flour off of her dress. "What can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if you could direct me towards the laundry. I am here as handmaiden to Lady Astrior, and she has some gowns that need washing."

"Lady Astrior has laundry already? I thought she had only been here for a day!" exclaimed the woman good-naturedly. Her eyebrows rose excitedly, prompting Cecelia for more information. Cecelia could tell she was a woman for gossip, but those were usually the friendliest kind in the servant world.

"These gowns were not too her strong specifications before we left," said Cecelia. "She needs them cleaned before they are ready for the royal family."

"Ah, I see," said the woman. "Frija works down the laundry; she can show you where to go." She turned to shout across the kitchen. "Frija!"

A girl who was making conversation with one of the men rolling pastry dough looked up and made eye contact with Cecelia. She quickly said goodbye to the man and made her way over.

"What is it?" Firja was a friendly-looking girl, with dark skin and a handsome figure.

"This girl needs some help finding the way to the laundries. I was under the impression that you were supposed to be there this morning for work yourself." The woman looked at Frija scoldingly.

"Well I was simply dropping in to see how Damian was doing," defended Frija, looking back over her shoulder at the man rolling out the dough. "Very well, I will show you to the laundry. What your name, anyway?"

"Cecilia," said Cecilia quickly. "And thank you."

"No, it's no problem at all. I suppose I should get to work sometime today." Frija grabbed a basket of laundry from the corner behind the ovens and motioned for Cecelia to follow her.

Frija led the way out of the kitchen and down a side flight of stairs which wound around and around in a corkscrew formation. Frija chatted good-naturedly all the way down.

"So how is it being handmaiden to that she-devil?" she inquired in an undertone.

"What?" exclaimed Cecelia.

"You know, Lady Astrior! I heard from the scullery maid that she yelled at her mom for a good fifteen minutes because she couldn't find her favorite rouge. She sounds like a terror." Frija looked delighted at her delivery of information.

"Well, that does sound like something Astrior would do, but don't feel to bad for Edel." sighed Cecelia, thinking of how Edel had yelled at that poor carriage boy sent to deliver them from the castle.

"Oh, I don't," assured Frija. "I heard that she's even worse. Apparently she yelled at one of the staff because her bath water wasn't drawn correctly, and everyone could hear her demanding to see the idiot who positioned that skylight above her bed; she said the sun comes in and shines directly into her face when she's trying to sleep."

Cecelia laughed at this. "It's probably because she spends so much time sleeping during the day, when the sun and everyone else in the world is up."

"Well but of course, she needs to be fresh and awake during the nighttime; that's when all the monsters do their best evil plotting."

Cecelia laughed along with Frija as they reached the bottom of the stairs. The door near the bottom opened up into a cleanliness oasis.

Tall metallic shelves lined the walls, stacked high with cleaners and stain-removers of all kinds. There were tall windows that reached all the way from the floor to the ceiling, lighting the room with sunrays. In the center of the room stood a huge pool of soapy water, lined all along with washboards and various devices for cloth cleaning. Behind this pool was a door which Frija explained led out to the laundry porch, where some clothes were hung to dry in the natural sunlight.

The two girls got started on their washing together. Frija helped Cecelia find all the things she needed for the gowns, and they took their places along the pool with other women and got down to scrubbing. Frija seemed quite pleased with herself to be up to date on all the best gossip, and she was more then willing to share the better stories with Cecelia. She was also delighted that Cecelia's closeness to the newest visitors in the palace allowed her exclusive access to stories about the two that no other staff would hear yet.

Cecelia what careful with what she told her, certain anything she said would be spread across the entire palace by morning. Still, she couldn't help but share a few juicer facts about life with her stepfamily.

Frija talked merrily about herself, the staff at the palace, and the royal family themselves. All of the laundry women were friendly, and they spoke freely about their opinions of those living within the castle walls.

Cecelia was surprised how many people had strong opinions about her family, seeing as they had only arrived yesterday.

"No-good gold-diggers in my opinion," claimed one woman loudly. "The wife, nasty thing, she caught up Igor in her clutches because he was a high-ranking official. And he was stupid enough to fall for it."

"I heard she was a sight to be seen after their first night here!" chipped in another. "Drank down a bit more rich wine then she was accustomed too, I guess! Turned red as a mistletoe berry!"

The women laughed.

"I bet she's come here now trying to pawn her daughter off onto one of the princes," claimed the first woman. "Little thing, I caught a glimpse of her heading in. Don't know her name, but I could see enough to know it'll be a sad day in Asgardian history if that girl ever sits on the throne."

"Cecelia works for her!" exclaimed Frija excitedly. "She's Astrior's handmaiden!"

The women quickly turned in interest to Cecelia, who could feel her cheeks lighting up like a mistletoe berry, as some would say.

"Well girl, is it true? Is that woman and her daughter only here to capture the hearts of one of our princes?"

"Well," said Cecelia nervously. "I'm sure that if they fell in love with her she wouldn't mind…"

"Well that settles it then," nodded the first woman, satisfied. The others followed. "She's here for a match and nothing else."

"Thor's to smart for her antics." Pitched in another. "He's got too much good in him to be blinded by a pretty thing. He'll see right through her."

"I'm sure seeing through her gowns isn't the problem. She's got half of her chest hanging out of some of those dresses she was wearing," added one of the older ladies.

Cecelia joined in laughing with the women. It was true that Astrior had always relied on her womanly abundance to gain attention from men before. If what these woman said was true, however, that tactic might not work this time.

"What about Loki though?" asked a younger girl.

Cecelia's laughter died. She had hoped the conversation wouldn't turn to the youngest prince. Despite her realizations that he did not recognize her, she couldn't help herself from feeling a certain excitement at his name. She quickly focused on her washing and let the conversation carry on without her.

"He's still got some smarts in him," said one woman thoughtfully. "Maybe not as bright as his brother, but still rather clever."

"Quite the trickster too," laughed another. "I remember all the pranks he used to play as a boy."

"Always in for a laugh."

"But unfortunately laughs isn't really enough to compare to his brother. I feel like Loki's always to be outdone by his brother. I mean, who wouldn't against Thor?"

"You think if Astrior tried her chances with Loki, he might fall for it?" Asked Frija excitedly.

"He very well might," agreed the other women.

"He's not the best when it comes to women, you know. Oh, I'm sure there are few that would be happy to marry him because of his position and power, but he's always struck me as kind of a loner. Might be looking for someone to give him some attention."

"But he's always so sour-looking, would Astrior really want to waste her time? Marching around the palace frowning, acting like he's the king, yelling at anyone in his way-"

"Seems like the two of them would be a perfect match in that respect!" exclaimed Frija. And the others laughed.

After that, the talk turned away from Loki, but Cecelia's mind did not drift with the conversation. Was he really such a dour person around the castle? In the forest he had seemed so nice. Perhaps these women were exaggerating his antics. But still, he did seem rather bitter every time she had seen him since.

The washing went quickly in the cheerful room with the friendly women. Frija and Cecelia helped the others while their loads dried, then carefully folded the gowns and placed them into the woven baskets piled out on the drying porch.

Frija helped Cecelia find her way back to the main entrance of the castle so she wouldn't get lost. The palace was so large, Cecelia wasn't sure she could get anywhere without becoming lost.

"Well, here we are!" declared Frija as she led Cecelia out of a back stairway into the main hall. "Now you can make your way down to the laundry yourself anytime Astrior monster sends you down to rewash her gowns."

Cecelia laughed.

"Thank-you," She smiled. "I would have been lost halfway back in the halls by now if you hadn't guided me through."

Frija laughed with her. "Well, I can help you find your way back but I'm afraid I can't help you with your hardest task; facing the dreaded Edel and Astrior themselves!"

"Wish me the best of luck then!" exclaimed Cecelia happily, as she waved good-bye and made her way towards the stairs.

Laundry was a more fun with friends. In fact, she thought, as she made her way up the stairs, she would have happily done a hundred more loads of laundry downstairs with the other woman rather then face her stepmother and stepsister for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

A/N- I'm a day late with this chapter! My computer is being silly for some reason and not letting me upload files, but I'm using my dad's computer and it seems to be just fine. Anyway, hope you guys like this update! Cecelia made a friend! :)


	4. Chapter 4

That night, Astrior was particularly demanding with her look.

"Last night was our first night here," she explained in an overly patient voice to Cecelia. "No one expected me to be fully prepared or to have all of my things settled in, so it didn't matter that I turned up looking like a half-dressed ass from the lower town."

Cecelia bit her tongue to keep from saying something nasty. Probably that is wasn't the clothes which made Astrior look like an ass.

"But tonight you mustn't be so sloppy with my look; the prince will be expecting better."

Cecelia sighed and continued to curl Astrior's hair, wrapping her locks around a hot rod from the fire so their shape would hold.

At dinner, Astrior used her best looks to her advantage. She had chosen a seat beside the prince, and was now using her best efforts to reach him from her side of the table as much as possible, touching his arm often and pressing herself against the arm rest of her chair in order to draw herself closer to him.

Cecelia rolled her eyes at her obvious show of affection. She was certain it was clear to everyone in the room what Astrior was trying to do. Then again, the princes might not be as observant as the serving women in washroom were. She knew Loki certainty wasn't.

Cecelia felt a jab of pain as her eyes reached Loki, who was glaring sourly at his goblet. She knew she must push him out of her mind, as he had obviously done with her, but it seemed no use. She couldn't stop thinking about their time in the woods and how different he seemed there.

Cecelia was roused out of her musings by King Odin, who was rising importantly from his chair.

"I have an announcement to make," claimed the king in a booming a voice. "A very important announcement which will please all of you. Our guest, the lovely Lady Astrior, most of all, I think."

Astrior looked pleasantly surprised at being called on by the king, and blinked her luscious lashes innocently.

"Igor and I have reached some very important deals in our meetings of late, and with the harvesting season of Asgard coming to an end, I think this would be an excellent time to celebrate! My lovely wife Frigga has wonderfully agreed to make arrangements that I am afraid I have no talent in, and we are going to throw a ball!"

Everyone exclaimed at the news. Everyone except Loki, who was still staring at his goblet with a look of deep loathing.

"The ball will be held in the coming week," continued Odin. "We will be inviting friends from across the land to come and celebrate with us in the festivities. And with my wife at the head of the planning, I am sure it will be a night to remember!"

The whole table applauded his announcement, and fell to discussing the ball once Odin had taken his seat again.

Cecelia could see Astrior already mentally planning a new mountain of chores for her. This ball looked like it would be more work then joy for Cecelia.

heh

Later that night, after helping Astrior prepare for bed, Cecelia fell into her own cot thinking about the grandeur a ball had to offer.

She had only ever been to one ball before in her life, when she was much younger, and happier.

One of her father's friends had been throwing a ball at his manor. It was supposed to be an adults-only party, but her dad had brought her anyway, despite her only being six years old. She had put on her favorite dress—a gown completely covered in silver sequins-and had spent the night dancing with her father and feasting on sweet treats.

The two of them had stayed there until midnight, dancing and talking and enjoying themselves.

Cecelia closed her eyes and imagined the ballroom; the golden chandeliers lit with thousands of candles, the smartly dressed servants carrying silver trays piled high will good things to eat, and her father, looking as healthy and alive as ever.

Cecelia gasped and opened her eyes quickly. It still hurt to think about her father, and all she had lost with his death. Not being able to go to parties and balls anymore hurt, but not being able to see his laughing face anymore hurt more then anything in the world.

Cecelia pushed her thoughts away and covered up with her thin blanket. She had not been to a ball since that night, and she highly doubted Astrior would allow her to go to this one. Basking in such memories would not help her get through the next hard week of work, and it definitely wouldn't help her sleep.

heh

"Are you telling me you would really rather stay here then take a trip through the bifrost?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Well why? Why would you want to stay here, servant to those two toads? Surely there are more adventurous things you could be doing."

"Asgard is the only place I've ever lived, Frija. All I know is here. To leave by myself and just travel somewhere without knowing what it's like there? That sounds terrifying."

"You need to grow a sense of adventure." Frija flung the gown she had finished hemming into the laundry basket and picked up a peach dressing shirt.

"Well maybe it's a bit of a dull life, but at least I know I'm not going to run into a frost giant anywhere around here." Cecelia carefully knotted her thread and folded her gown neatly into the laundry basket on top of Frija's.

The two girls were in the sewing room, carefully mending and altering a stack of clothes and gowns in readiness for the ball.

Frija rolled her eyes. "But imagine you could go anywhere! Have all kinds of adventurous, all around the universe! Wouldn't that tempt you at all?"

Cecelia thought for a moment. "I guess I've just always fancied safety over adventure. I'd rather know I can make it through the cave rather then poke the beast with a stick and see if it will wake."

"And that is why you are going to lead a very boring life indeed," proclaimed Frija, finishing off her blouse with a flourish and reaching for another. "I guess that means you're not going to try to sneak into the ball then, are you?"

"Goodness no!" exclaimed Cecelia, alarmed. "I'd get into trouble for sure!"

"Not if no one recognizes you," teased Frija. "Once, when the king was having a party for his fellow nobleman, Damian and I sunk into the back where the food tables were and stole a few of his delicious pastries. Then we slipped outside and ate them in the trees overlooking the stables."

"But," asked Cecelia, confused. "Isn't Damian the pastry chef in the kitchen? Couldn't he have just taken the pastries when he made them?"

"But that would have lost all the fun of it, Cece!" Laughed Frija, finishing her second blouse and reaching up to stretch. "Sometimes it's just fun to take risks."

"I would love go to the ball," said Cecelia thoughtfully. "It's bound to be a beautiful event."

"Well then, why don't you? Want Damian and I to sneak you in? We would be able to."

"Goodness no!" exclaimed Cecelia again, frightened by the excited look gathering in Frija's eyes. "You know I'm not the dangerous type."

"Come on, it could be fun. Dancing the night away like that. We'll throw on some makeup and no one would be the wiser."

"I would be simply awful at keeping a secret like that," laughed Cecelia. "Besides, I'd have nothing to wear. All of my dresses are of the plain brown serving-girl type."

Frija leaned back in her chair and shook her hair back. "If you say so, miss proper." Leaning forward, she pulled out a white gown from the basket. "The usual hemming on this one?"

"No," said Cecelia quickly, seeing the gown. "Astrior says she doesn't think that one is suitable for the royal court. She wants me to get rid of it."

"Really?" asked Frija, her eyes rising in surprise. "But it's such a beauty!"

"I know. I was personally quite fond of it." Cecelia looked at the gown. In the morning light, the golden symbols seemed to sparkle with a magical gleam. She had chosen that gown for her forest dance because of its delicate beauty, and also because she knew it would not be immediately missed. Astrior was never one for the lighter-colored gowns.

Frija was examining the gown closely. "Such a shame," she mumbled, more to herself then to Cecelia. "Hey!" she yelled suddenly, startling the group of women embroidering tea napkins behind them. "Why don't I get rid of it for you? You're busy enough here, I could see to it that it's taken apart and the pieces reused for other projects."

"I suppose that would be fine," agreed Cecelia absentmindedly. She was busy fighting with a particularly stubborn seam.

Smiling determinedly, Frija carefully rolled up the dress and tucked it into her own basket. Then she reached for another gown.

"Let's get these dresses hemmed!"

* * *

A/N-Hey guys! So I've missed a couple days of updating, I'm sorry. Doing some crazy things this weekend and I was really busy. But I'm back with more chapters! We might be on/off track for a bit but I've got this story in my mind so I'm not going anywhere! Thank-you so much for all the follows and reviews! Please keep it up! :)


	5. Chapter 5

The following week marked a flurry of activity for the castle. The kitchen was overworking its ovens, turning out an abundance of sweets and treats and experimenting with new recipes for the coming ball.

Frija's friend Damian had allowed Frija and Cecelia to sample some of his latest pastries, which were so light and crispy that Cecelia claimed they must have been made by magic.

The maids were in a cleaning frenzy, scrubbing everything that they could until the windows, floors, and the walls themselves seemed to glow with cleanliness. Cecelia was quite glad she had left her chicken-watching duties behind at their old manor, as she was certain one of the many maids would be happy to tell her off if she had gotten a speck of mud on their immaculate floors.

Cecelia seemed to be seeing a lot more of Queen Frigga now then she usually did. Normally, the Queen spent her time in the royal quarters. Now, however, she could frequently be spotted marching about the castle, directing preparations and checking on their progress.

Frija herself seemed to be working quite a lot, and Cecelia hardly got to see her at all over the next few days. Which was really unfortunate, as she was instead forced to spend even more of her time in the company of her two least favorite people in the world.

"This seam must be redone, it's not flattering my figure correctly," claimed Astrior loudly as she stood in front of her full-length mirror for their fifth ball gown fitting. "And do try to get the sleeves right this time."

"Also, be sure you prepare the hair rods and get the extra soap for her bath," called Edel from the corner, where she sat fanning herself and watching the proceedings. "Everything must be perfect if my Astrior is going to catch the eye of the future King of Asagard."

Astrior nodded in agreement as she pulled off the crimson gown. She flung it at Cecelia, who caught it mid air as it flew to her face, covering her hair in petticoats.

Adding the gown neatly to her basket, Cecelia marched to the door.

"Don't forget to clean my room this morning after finishing your chores for Astrior," added Edel. "My bath must be scrubbed every day so I can wash in it."

"Yes ma'am," curtsied Cecelia before nodding out of the room.

Once outside in the hallway, Cecelia was happy to breath again. She always enjoyed doing tasks that sent her far away from her family. Working with the friendly faces down in the sewing room was a vacation compared to bowing and scraping her way throughout the room in Edel's presence, waiting for the moment Edel found something to complain about or criticize.

The sewing went quickly in the kind lighting of the sewing room, although Cecelia was disinherited to see Frija was nowhere to be found.

"She's been working a lot here in the early mornings," said one of the women when Cecelia asked about her. "She's busy around the castle with ball preparations so she said she had to get all her sewing done beforehand."

"Okay," nodded Cecelia. "Thank-you."

Once the gown was re-sewn for the fourth time, Cecelia packed away her supplies and lined the thread and needle she had been using back into the appropriate drawers. She slung the basket over her hip, and made her way back into the main part of the castle.

Just as Cecelia had suspected on her first day at the castle, the servant hallways were expansive and well-hidden, so that those with excellent directional sense could patrol their way across the entire castle without ever being seen by those in the main halls.

Cecelia, however, did not know her way around half of them, and was afraid of getting lost in the maze of pathways hidden behind the castle's main walls. For this reason, she tended to take the main halls to and from Astiror's chambers. No one had stopped her yet, and she tended to make her way so quickly and quietly that using the main halls had never been an issue.

Today, as she made her way across the entryway to the grand staircase leading back to her quarters, Cecelia was pondering the ball, and the gowns and noblewomen that were sure to be attending.

Lost in her thoughts, Cecelia did not make her way as tactically as she usually did, and turned the corners with rather reckless abandon. It was for this reason that, while rushing around a rather sharp turn, Cecelia did not notice the person walking towards her right away. Rather then stop or duck out of the way, she ran directly into the man walking in the opposite direction.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Cecelia as she whacked the man at his side with her laundry basket.

The man, who had been reading a book as he walked, lowered his hand, and she saw whom it was.

"Loki!" she exclaimed. Then she quickly corrected herself and dropped into a low curtsy. "I mean, I am sorry, Prince Loki."

"It's alright," started the man. Then, "I recognize you. Haven't you run into me before?"

Cecelia laughed nervously. "Yes, outside of the dinning hall. I am maid to Astrior."

"Yes, that was it. What was your name again?"

"Cecelia," she answered.

"Yes, well, Cecelia, I must say you need to learn to watch where you are going."

"Indeed, I will work on that. Although I feel the need to point out that you were the one walking with your nose stuck in a book." Cecelia quickly clasped her hand to her mouth in horror. How had she said such a thing to a member of the royal family of Asgard?

But Loki only laughed. "You are quite right," he smiled good-naturedly. "I suppose I am partially to blame."

"What are you reading?" asked Cecelia with interest.

"I must confess that I have no idea." Loki sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "I have a hard time focusing on my reading when I am distressed."

"What is distressing you?"

"What is with all the questions here, am I on trial?" laughed Loki.

"Not at all!" exclaimed Cecelia. "I was just curious what had gotten the Asgardian Prince into such a ruff that he wasn't paying attention to either his book or where he was going."

Loki sighed. "I've just come from a council meeting with my father and the Lord Igor," he said. "I fear my father does not take any of my suggestions into consideration because I am the youngest son. Every time I try to speak he shoots me down. He seems more willing to listen to the advice of a complete stranger then to mine."

"Is that why you look so sour all the time?"

Loki turned to her slowly. "What do you mean?"

"N—nothing," stuttered Cecelia. "I've just seen you…a few times.. and you seem, just…moody a lot, I guess."

"You've 'seen' me?" Loki raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "Have you been stalking me throughout the palace?"

"No, no. Nothing like that." Cecelia grasped her arm nervously. She seemed to be making matters worse for herself the more she talked. "I'm always in the dinning hall when you're eating because of my sis—master, Astrior. In case she needs me. I've seen you there."

"Oh," said Loki quietly. Cecelia mentally kicked herself for speaking her mind so freely around him. He seemed to have a strange effect on her ability to keep her respectful filter on.

After a moment of awkward silence, when Cecelia was just about to move on, Loki spoke to her again.

"So, you think I look sour all the time."

"No, I think you look…lost, somehow." said Cecelia. "Like you do not really know how to interact with the people around you."

Loki paused for a second, peering at her intently. Then he burst out laughing.

"You seem to have read me better then I do myself," he said, throwing his head back and running his hands through his hair again. His hair fell gracefully over his forehead as he leaned forward again, and she found herself wondering if it was as soft to the touch as it looked. "I suppose I am rather quiet at family dinners. I'm just not really sure how my father expects me to socialize. It seems better to keep quiet then to risk it."

Cecelia shrugged. "Or you could just act how you want and not care so much what he thinks. You never know, he might like the real you."

Loki looked at her thoughtfully. Then he shook his head. "You are a very interesting person to talk to, Cecelia," he stated. "I must be on my way now."

"Of course," nodded Cecelia. "Have a good day, Prince Loki."

"And you as well," he nodded. Then he opened his book again and continued his way around the corner.

Loki might have been as oblivious as they come, but he seemed nice enough as a prince. One just needed to know how to urge him out from behind the mask he put on. Cecelia was quite glad that he had been friendly to her, despite her being just a servant to him. He would probably never see her in the way he had seen the noble woman he met in the forest, but at least he still talked to her during their chance meetings.

Cecelia was caught up in her thoughts again. She felt a certain indescribable lightness after her meeting with Loki. Something about him made her stomach feel in a flurry. It was as though she had somehow swallowed a can of swarming butterflies, and they were now throwing a dance party inside her.

Cecelia did not realize someone was coming towards her until it was too late to properly react.

A fuming Edel snatched her arm and pulled her into her bedroom, throwing her across the room with such force that Cecelia stumbled and dropped her basket.

"Edel!" she cried and she steadied herself. "What—" but she cut off her sentence as she caught sight of Edel's fuming face.

Edel came stomping towards her and pulled herself to her fullest height. Although they were about the same height, Cecelia cowered under her stepmothers' anger. Edel had a sense of power about her that could make people twice her height feel small.

"You took a while with the gown alterations," said Edel in a dangerously low voice.

"Well, I'm sorry," said Cecelia carefully, trying not to anger her stepmother more. She wasn't really sure what had gotten Edel into such a fury, and she didn't want to stroke the flames.

"I hope you realize how important this is to Astrior. I hope you are making sure to do your best at everything she tells you to do."

Cecelia nodded quickly. "Of course I am, of course—"

"I hope you are not leaving duties behind, or slacking off," interrupted Edel. "Because if you were doing anything, anything at all to try to sabotage my daughter, there would be serious consequences."

Cecelia gulped, and nodded slowly. Edel took another step forward, so their faces were inches apart.

"You mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to me, or to my daughter. I could toss you out onto the street without a second thought. No one knows you, no one cares about you. Nothing is stopping me from throwing you into the dirt where you belong but the help you bring Astrior on her quest to get a match with the princes."

Cecelia gulped. And nodded. She could feel her knees beginning to shake. The power her stepmother held over her had always terrified her.

"So be sure you do your best to help my daughter look her best. Otherwise, nothing is stopping me from ending your time here and tossing you out like used bathwater. Do you understand that, you lazy girl?"

Cecelia nodded.

"Answer me with your words!" Edel's face was the color of the richest wine. Her anger was spreading through her veins like a sickly virus.

"Yes ma'am, I understand."

"Good," said Edel, straightening up and taking a step back.

Cecelia scrambled to collect her things and dashed to the door.

"I have shown you great kindness your whole life by seeing you were taken care of after your father's death," called Edel behind her. "Don't ever forget that."

* * *

A/N-Happy Predident's Day everyone! Hope you like this chapter! :)


	6. Chapter 6

The morning of the ball dawned clear and bright. Birds chirped to each other in excitement from the gardens, while bees buzzed around gathering pollen in a frantic manner. The whole world seemed to know today was an important day of celebration in the kingdom.

Queen Frigga could be seen striding about the castle confidently, checking on preparations and looking quite put together for a woman who had planned an entire ball in little under a week.

The servants, on the other hand, seemed to be pressing on the edge of madness. Many of them dashed around with a crazed look in their eyes, running from place to place carrying heaps of tablecloths and shinny platters. No one seemed to care enough to use the back stairways today, so the main halls were crammed with servants polishing, talking, and cleaning. The kitchens were baking up so many good things to eat that the entire castle was perfumed with their smells.

Cecelia caught a glimpse of the ballroom on her way upstairs with Astrior's breakfast that morning-everyone was taking their morning meal in their rooms since there was too much to be done for the party that night. It looked simply wonderful. The walls were draped in gold tinsel, and the windows were sounded with floral arrangements. There were two giant crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, filled with tall white tapers, waiting to be lit. The floor was highly polished, reflecting a perfect picture of the room back at anyone who looked down.

Although it did not have food or dancers yet, Cecelia could imagine that it would be a beautiful sight. Perhaps she would ask Astrior if she could attend as her handmaiden. Even standing along the walls and watching such a magnificent event would be an incredible experience.

Cecelia decided not to ask Astrior right away. She didn't think she was mentally prepared for the explosion that was sure to happen if she put Astrior under any more stress.

Everything seemed to be going wrong for her stepsister. Firstly, she couldn't decide on what gown to wear. The red one she had been planning on wearing she decided against at the last minute because she thought it didn't show off her waist enough. In frenzy, she pulled out her second-choice, a satin blue gown. She demanded that the hem be redone in time for that night so it would be appropriate for the ball.

Rushing down into the sewing room and working double time, Cecelia managed to finished the hem and pull herself back into the bedroom in under an hour, only to find Astrior had changed her mind and was now fashioning a green dress in front of her floor-length mirror.

The next half hour ensued more mind-changing and frustrated wails, before Edel finally convinced her the green one was perfect, only for Astrior to switch back to her first choice at the last minute.

Next, came the nightmare of hair arranging. Although she had picked out a hairstyle yesterday, Astrior couldn't seem to form words to articulate clearly to Cecelia how she wanted it done, and ended up pulling the ironing rod from Cecelia to do it herself, burning Cecelia on her wrist in the process.

Eyes watering in pain from the burn on her wrist, Cecelia then fell to the process of helping her lady apply her makeup.

After three face-washes and restarts, two breakdowns, and another face-wash to be safe, Astrior was finally ready.

It was with a heavy sigh of relief that Cecelia finally clasped Astrior's ruby necklace to her neck, while Edel applauded from the corner.

"You look wonderful, daughter," she gushed, rushing forward. "I believe we are ready to go; we mustn't be tardy."

Edel smiled garishly down at her daughter and turned to flounce out of the room. Astrior turned back to her mirror once her mother had left for a final check.

Cecelia approached her stepsister carefully.

"Astrior? I was wondering if you would like me to go down to the ball with you. In case you need something, I'd be there to help."

Cecelia waited nervously. She hadn't realized how much she wanted Astrior to say that she could go until she saw Astrior considering her offer.

"No, I don't think that would be wise," said Astrior after a moment of thought. "I am trying to make a good impression here, and at a royal ball nonetheless. I cannot take the risk that your foolishness might make a scene or distract me from looking my best."

Cecelia nodded and looked down to the ground. She could feel tears welling in her eyes.

Edel poked her head back into the room.

"Come daughter, we don't want to be the last to enter the ballroom. Here," she added suddenly to Cecelia. She handed her a heavy wooden jewelry box. "If you're looking for something to do while we're gone you can polish my jewelry. Now come along, dear."

Astrior allowed herself to be led out by her mother, and after a withering glare, Edel followed, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Cecelia flung the jewelry box angrily upon Astrior's bed and ran into her little closet. Sitting upon her cot, she lay back against the wall and began to cry.

She knew it was completely irrational to want to attend the ball; but she wanted it so much! She wanted to become beautiful and walk for a night among noblemen and dance with people under shinning chandeliers.

Most of all, she wanted to be social. She hated the feeling of being alone, and since her dad had died, that was all she had felt. Every instant she was with her stepfamily, she was utterly alone. And when they left, she was even more so.

Cecelia was interrupted from her tears by a knock on the door.

Stepping out of her closet, she called "who is it?"

"It's me! Hurry and open up!" said a familiar voice.

"Frija?" asked Cecelia wonderingly, walking quickly to the door. Opening it revealed her friend, looking around her nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"No time, come here." Frija ducked past Cecelia into the room and pulled Cecelia into her own room behind her. Then she quickly shut the door and turned to face her. "I've got something for you."

"What is it?" asked Cecelia suspiciously.

Frija held out a package she had been concealing in her dress. Something large and soft, wrapped in copious amounts of tissue paper.

Cecelia looked curiously at her friend before taking the package. Slowly, she took it over to the bed and set it down. Then she began to gently tear the wrapping paper.

Out fell, a dress!

"Oh," Cecelia took a deep breath. This was the dress she had worn in the woods; the one Astrior had wanted her to get rid of. But if she hadn't known the seaming so well, she would never have recognized it.

The bottom had been lengthened with extra fabric, so it was now a full-length ball gown. Extra netting had been added beneath the dress for a fuller skirt, and the waist had been cleverly darted. Every golden design had been expertly removed. Instead, the dress was now covered in silver jewels, which sparkled and shone in the light coming from Astrior's night lamp. The straps of the dress had also been removed, so now it was a strapless dress, with a beautifully curved neckline.

"Frija, it's beautiful! How did you do this?"

"Years of practice in seam stressing," said Frija, waving aside the compliment. "The point is that no one will recognize this gown; I've changed it so much. Now you're ready to go."

"Go?" asked Cecelia, looking up from the gown confused. "Go where?"

"To the ball you dummy! Where else? Why do you think I've been sewing nonstop for the past week to make you this gown?" Frija had the dangerously excited look in her eyes again. It was the same look she'd had when she had described her and Damian's adventure sneaking into the King's party. Cecelia felt a sinking feeling in her chest.

"Oh Frija, I can't."

Frija's smiled faded a bit. "Why by Odin's beard not? You said you liked dancing."

"I did—do! But I can't sneak into a ball I haven't been invited to. They wouldn't let me in!"

"Well you're already in the palace, so that doesn't matter. You're essentially already in."

"But they'd realize it was me!"

"That's the point of the gown silly! And I've seen the magic makeup can do. Once Lady Gorwet had a huge wart the size of a thumbprint on her cheek; I saw it! She covered that thing up so well that by the time she was done she looked like a completely different person!"

Cecelia thought about the way her makeup had disguised her from Prince Loki in the forest. She had done her makeup so well then he hadn't been able to recognize her at all.

Cecelia's heart jumped. Loki, he would be there at the ball! She could put on this gown, load on the makeup, and become Cela again. He would see her, and they could dance together among the candlelight magic of the ballroom….

Cecelia let her dream fade. Frija's malicious face came back into focus.

"I can't," she said simply, letting the dress fall back onto the bed. "I'm sorry Frija, it's a beautiful dress. There's just no way I could do something like this. I'm not like adventurous you."

"Well then it's time you start being more like me," said Frija determinedly. "You need to lighten up and find some fun in your life that's outside of your tiny little safety zone. You need to take a risk."

Cecelia sighed. Frija didn't look like she was going to take no for an answer. She imagined herself dancing with Loki again.

Then Cecelia pushed all doubt out of her mind and took a jump.

"Okay," she agreed simply.

There was no time to put up the fuss Astrior had about getting ready, but Frija claimed Cecelia was too pretty to need all that. After quickly changing into a borrowed underdress from Astrior's closet, Cecelia stepped into the center of the room and let Frija slip the dress over her head.

The skirts fell all the way down to the floor, and the bodice covered in silver sparkled in the candlelight. Once Cecelia added a borrowed pair of white heels from Astrior's closet, the dress reached perfectly to within an eighth of an in inch above the floor.

"You did the measuring perfectly for this dress," complimented Cecelia as Frija did up the back. The dress clung to Cecelia's form just tightly enough to stay up without strangling her.

Next came cosmetics. Frija didn't know how to apply makeup or do hair very well, but she helped when she could and gave morel support the rest of the time.

When Cecelia was finished, she stood up from the makeup desk nervously.

"What do you think?" she asked. Frija examined her from head to toe, then nodded.

"If I didn't know it was you there, I wouldn't have thought you were Cecelia at all."

Cecelia felt relived and made her way to the full-length mirror. Gazing at her reflection, she was shocked and happy to see Frija was right. Her freckles were gone, completely covered by the makeup. Her cheeks were red, her lips dark crimson, and her eyes simply doused in copious amounts of silver lining and powder. Combined with the dress and her gorgeously curled hair, no one could have seen her and connected her to the serving girl that bowed her way around Astrior's every whim.

"Thank-you, Frija," said Cecelia, turning to her friend. "This means so much to me."

"It was no problem," said Frija. "Anything for a friend."

"Are you planning to sneak into the ball with Damian again?"

Frija threw back her head and laughed. "Not this time! In fact, Damian saved a few treats for us to share. I'm meeting him in the hay loft to spend the night feasting together and watching the starts."

"That seems like a very safe night for you two."

"Not the way we do it," winked Frija.

Cecelia laughed at her friend's abruptness, then examined her closer.

"Frija," she asked. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

Frija immediately looked embarrassed. "It's not really makeup," she said shyly, turning away. "It's a mixture of crushed berries I made. I thought I might try to look my best if I'm going to be spending a night with such a great guy as Damian."

"He's lucky to have you," said Cecelia truthfully. "And you look beautiful."

Frija smiled warmly.

Cecelia had a sudden thought. "Come here," she motioned, waving Frija over to the bed.

Pulling Edel's jewelery box towards her, Cecelia turned to her friend. Flicking open the cover, she revealed a sparkling mass of gems.

Frija gasped.

"Pick one to wear on your date tonight," said Cecelia.

"What?" asked Frija in wonderment. "No, I couldn't. Really. Mistress Astrior would notice."

"Edel's asked me to clean these, which means she won't be expecting them back until at least tomorrow. I'm sure they'd like to spend some time exemplifying someone without the personality of a witch."

Frija laughed, then carefully approached the box. At first, she pulled out the most lavish necklace in the box, a huge contraption of gold and emeralds. But after seeing the garish effect in the mirror, she quickly put it back. Finally, she pulled out a thin gold chain with a diamond pendent, set in a rose gold setting.

"Is this a real diamond?" Asked Frija breathlessly.

"Sure is," said Cecelia, smiling.

Frija looked alarmed, and excited, as she approached the mirror and fastened the necklace.

The effect was marvelous. Frija's light eyes sparkled in tune with the diamond, and the rose gold of the setting matched her berry-lipstick.

"You look like a princess," said Cecelia encouragingly. Frija smiled and turned away from the mirror.

"And you look like a queen," she said, nodding to Cecelia's outfit. "Now, back to business. The ball will be over at midnight; I'll meet you back here ten minutes before then to help you undress and return the necklace. Then you can be ready to help Astrior prepare for bed and no on will be the wiser."

Cecelia nodded. Having a plan made it feel less terrifying. Less like she was going to be sneaking into a royal ball held by the most powerful man in Asgard, and more like she and her friends were planning a game of hide-and-seek.

"Excellent," said Frija, perhaps taking Cecelia's bright eyes and shaking knees for signs of joy and excitement.

The two made their way quietly to the door, and Frija poked her head out to check the hallway.

"All clear," she nodded, heading out and motioning Cecelia to follow. The hall was completely empty. Sounds of merriment could be heard coming from the level below.

"Everyone should already be there, so try to sneak in and don't draw too much attention to yourself," whispered Frija. "Don't forget to be back here before midnight and above all, have a good time!"

Cecelia laughed and smiled at her friend. "Thank-you, Frija," she said again.

"Your welcome, and thank-you for the necklace." Frija leaned in a kissed Cecelia on her cheek, then gave her a hug. "And good luck!"

Frija took off down the hall towards a servants exit, and Cecelia turned in the opposite direction. Slowly, she began making her way towards the lights and noise coming from the ballroom.

* * *

AN-Time for a Wednesday update! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! And I hope you're all excited for the ball scene! The next chapter is filled to the brim with feels! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Cecelia reached the room where the ball was being held, the giant double doors were shut, and two guards stood at the entrance. When they saw her coming, the guards bowed low before her. Cecelia smiled at them nervously.

The guards rose and turned their backs to her, reaching for the doors. Before Cecelia could stop them, they pushed the doors open with great importance, so that they swung forward sickeningly fast, revealing a room full of people.

The musicians at the far end had just finished their second piece of the evening, and the clapping died away to dead silence. Cecelia made her way into the ballroom, very aware that everyone was staring at her. Feel self-conscious, Cecelia looked down at her skirts. It was then that she caught sight of her dress. The silver gems Frija had embroidered so expertly into the gown stood out shockingly bright against the golden light of the ballroom. Everyone seemed hypnotized by the effect the moving patterns of light had on the gems. Cecelia smiled to herself. This dress reminded her stunningly of the gown she had worn to the only other ball she had ever attended, with her dad.

With a 'bang', the guards at the front slammed the doors shut. People remained transfixed on Cecelia for another moment, however, before the musicians at the end began their third piece. Suddenly, everyone caught hold of themselves and turned away from Cecelia, returning to their own partners and dance steps.

Cecelia breathed a sigh of relief at being out of the spotlight, and moved off to the side of room to observe the dancers. The sight was wonderful. Noblewomen in a variety of brightly colored dresses made their way across the floor, accompanied by their partners. Silks of pink, purple, gold, green, and red flashed across the room. The noblemen had much more conservative outfits, mostly clad in suits of black, white, and a few gold. Although Cecelia did catch sight of one man wearing a shockingly bright maroon suit, dancing with a girl in a bright yellow gown. Watching them fling themselves across the dance floor together hurt Cecelia's eyes, for the great clash of color was very overwhelming to the senses.

Near the front of the room, Cecelia could see King Odin and Queen Frigga swaying together. Behind them, Thor was lounging by the wall, sounded by a gaggling group of beautiful women. They seemed to be laughing quite hard at whatever he was saying. Scanning the room, Cecelia found Astrior, who was looking rather dour, no doubt because Thor didn't seem to be sparing her the slightest bit of attention.

As Cecelia turned her head slightly away from Astrior, she caught sight of Edel. Instead of watching the dancers, Cecelia was shocked to see Edel was staring directly at her, with a look of pure malice. Their eyes met, and Cecelia quickly tuned her head away to look upon the dancers once more.

"Are you perhaps looking for me?" asked a sly voice from behind. Cecelia shivered a bit from its closeness. She recognized that voice.

"Why, Prince Loki, how wonderful to see you here." Cecelia turned to the raven-haired prince and curtsied.

"Cela, I wondered when I might see you again."

"You remembered me?" asked Cecelia in disbelief.

"Yes, of course. How could I forget such a stunning beauty? Care to dance?"

Loki extended his hand to her, and Cecelia took it. As he led her out onto the dance floor, Cecelia could feel her training as a noblewoman return. She walked with all the elegance and grace one of a noblewoman's position might posses.

Loki clasped her hand securely in his, and placed his hand upon her waist. Cecelia quickly found her own hold directly behind his right shoulder, and the two began to dance.

Although Cecelia had had many fantastic dance lessons as a child, she highly doubted she would have needed them. Loki led her across the floor with such agility and skill that the pair of them seemed to be floating rather then dancing. Cecelia wondered vaguely if her feet were touching the floor at all, or if she was simply flying higher and higher with each step of happiness.

"So you managed to find me," said Loki after they had been dancing awhile.

"What makes you think I knew you would be here at all?" Asked Cecelia laughingly.

"I know that is the only reason you would attend," smiled Loki teasingly.

"Well, that did have some part to do with it," Cecelia admitted. Loki's grin broadened. "But I also came for the dancing and food, of course."

"Yes, but what is all that without good company?" questioned Loki, and he strode powerfully across the room, carrying her with him.

The two were quite caught up in each other and their dancing that they hardly noticed the audience they had accumulated. Multiple couples had come to a standstill, and were watching the pair with rapt attention. Everyone was gossiping about the mysterious prince and the unknown women that seemed to be holding the dance floor hostage.

After they had danced many rounds about the room, Loki and Cecelia took a break and headed over to get some refreshments. They were greeted at the drink counter by Thor.

"Well brother, I never knew you could dance so well. You usually spend these parties in such a stoic manner that I hardly thought you had the talent for it." Thor clapped his brother on his back.

"Well, those parties never offered such interesting partners," answered Loki, looking up at Cecelia from his glass. Cecelia could feel heat rising to her cheeks, and she quickly took a sip from her own cup.

"I'm Thor, Loki's brother. It's nice to meet you," said Thor, reaching out to shake Cecelia's hand.

"Nice to meet you too," said Cecelia, clasping his hand firmly and looking him directly in the face. It seemed weird to be introduced to someone she already knew so much about, but she hardly could have mentioned that without giving away her identity.

"Well I don't know what magic you posses, but you've been able to bring my little brother out of his shell at last, and for that I must congratulate you."

Loki glared at his brother. "Don't you have some entouragè of women somewhere waiting to dance with you, brother?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," said Thor thoughtfully. Then, with a smile and a backwards wave, Thor made his way off across the floor. By the time he had taken three steps a group of smiling girls had already sounded him, and he deftly caught a girl in a mint-green dress up and led her out to the floor. The other girls stalked sourly back to their sides of the room to await their next opportunity.

"I almost forgot!" exclaimed Loki suddenly. Cecelia turned back to look at him questionably. "I have your purse; you left it in the woods the last time we met. I had hoped I might see you again so I could give it back."

"Oh," said Cecelia, remembering the purse. "I had wondered where that had gone." She had assumed she had simply forgotten to pack it.

"It's in my chambers," said Loki. "Here, follow me. I can return it to you then we can come back."

Cecelia followed him out of the dance floor. Despite the rest of the room being occupied with their dancing partners, Cecelia could still feel many eyes upon her back and she left with Loki.

Loki led her past the main stairs up a second flight towards the private royal quarters. Cecelia marveled at the fact that she was going to see the private halls of the royal family. To be honest, they looked quite the same as the rest of the halls in the castle, but to be exploring a new place in the castle was quite exciting.

Loki led her to a set of double doors that quite resembled those at the ballroom, only much smaller and quieter.

He pulled open one door and held it open and she walked inside. He followed her in and turned on the lamp.

While Loki shuffled in his desk drawers, Cecelia observed his chambers. They were smaller then she would have thought for a member of the royal family.

It was a single room, not much larger then the room she and Astrior shared. To her left was the bathroom, which she couldn't see much of, but could tell was adorned with marble and gold. Directly in front of her was Loki's bed, which was for some reason shaped like a giant circle rather then a square, and had filmy gold hangings. Directly to her right was the desk and set of drawers Loki was digging in, along with a tall bookshelf and a reading corner.

In front of her was a large glass door, leading out onto an impressive balcony. Cecelia could see lamps winking in the royal gardens and horses watering themselves by the stables.

"Here it is," claimed Loki suddenly, pulling out the purse. Closing the drawer, he walked over and handed the purse back to Cecelia.

Cecelia took the small leather purse and smiled down at it. The golden design flickered in the light cast by the lamps in Loki's bedchambers.

"I noticed the design on it, it's very beautiful. What does it mean?"

Cecelia smiled as she looked down at the woven thread. "It's an ancient symbol," she explained. "My father gave it to me; he said it was a 'steel flower.' It was supposed to remind me that I could be as delicate as a flower but a strong warrior at the same time."

"That seems like a beautiful lesson," said Loki thoughtfully.

Cecelia nodded and quickly ducked her head. She did not want Loki to see the tears forming in her eyes. She was so grateful he had found her purse; she did not know what she would have done if it had been left behind in the forest. It was the last thing her father had given her before he died, telling her to always stay strong and beautiful.

"Your father sounds like a wise man," continued Loki. "I'd love to meet him."

"I wish you could," said Cecelia, secretly wiping her lashes and straightening. "Unfortunately, he died over five years ago."

"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that," said Loki. Cecelia accepted his sympathy with a small smile. Neither of them seemed to quite know what to say next, so Cecelia turned again to stare out of the glass windows.

More to break the uncomfortable silence then anything, Cecelia made her way over to the doors and stood looking out at the scene below.

Loki came up behind her and opened the door slightly, motioning her to follow him out. The two of them made their way to the edge of the deck, where a waist-high stone railing lined the porch. The night was surprisingly warm for being so late, and Cecelia gazed wondrously out on the view of nighttime Asgard.

It was a wonderful sight. Lights from distant villages and manors lit the landscape before them with golden specks of light. High above the dark trees, stars twinkled in the night sky. Their flickering sliver beauty seemed to be reflected in Cecelia's dress and eyes and she peered out at the beautiful city.

"I love Asgard at night," said Cecelia quietly. "When my father was still alive, sometimes at night we would go out to 'nature parties.' We would go and pretend we were at a ball in the forest, and dance together beneath the stars."

"Ah, that explains things. You did seem like a natural at having parties in the woods."

Cecelia laughed, thinking fondly of their meeting in the forest. "It does not quite compare to the grandeur of the balls at the palace."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Loki, smiling. "Our dancing in the forest seemed just as magical as our dancing in the ballroom. Here we just had a bigger audience."

"I'm not sure how much I like people looking at us while we're trying to dance," said Cecelia truthfully.

"Well, we're much more secluded up here," claimed Loki, moving closer to her.

"What do you mean?" Asked Cecelia, watching him questioningly. Loki dipped into a low bow before her.

"Can I tempt you to a balcony dance, my lady?"

Cecelia laughed as she took his hand quickly. "Why of course, good sir. I would love one!"

Loki stood up straight and pulled her close, clasping her waist tightly. The two of them began to dance to the music of the night. The sounds of horses neighing and loud crickets might have been their only accompaniment, but the two managed to find their rhythm together very well nonetheless.

Away from the searching eyes of the ballroom, Cecelia could feel herself dancing in a different manner. Loki seemed to be much more at ease around only her, and he was holding her much closer then he ever would have in a room of other people.

Their chests were almost touching. Despite being a few inches shorter then Loki normally, Cecelia's heels allowed her to be practically the same height, so their eyes watched each other from the same plane. Their movements became slower as the dance went on, and pretty soon Loki was simply holding her around her waist and her around his neck and the two swayed slowly together.

"I don't think I mentioned how beautiful you looked tonight," said Loki in a low whisper, leaning close to her. Cecelia shivered as she felt his breath against her neck.

"You look rather handsome yourself," she managed, in a whisper just as low.

"You really are such wonderful company," said Loki quietly. "Spending time with you is some of the best times I've had."

Loki was watching her eyes intently. Cecelia nodded her agreement. She couldn't seem to find the words to speak. It was as though Loki had cast a spell upon her.

Loki's emerald eyes sparkled in the lamplight. She could sense him moving closer, but it was in a slow, mesmerizing way. His face was inches from hers. She could hear his breathing. She could sense his presence, so close. She closed her eyes. Something in her made her bend towards him as well. He was going to kiss her, she knew it.

Suddenly, a wagon's wheel crunched on the gravel down below. Loud talking was coming from the entryway of the castle.

Cecelia's eye flew open. Loki was still close to her, but she quickly jumped back and he opened his eyes in confusion.

The ball was over, and people were leaving. Horse neighed as they were led to the front of the castle, drawing loud carriages with them. People were talking excitingly and recounting the ball as they loaded into their carriages.

People were leaving, everything was over. Astrior would be heading to her rooms. Cecelia was supposed to have met Frija there over ten minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," said Cecelia, as she broke away from a confused Loki. "I'm sorry, I had a really nice time, I did. But I really need to go now."

"Wait!" he called after her as she ran back through the open glass door and dashed across his room. "Will I ever see you again?" he cried, hurrying after her.

Cecelia didn't stop to answer him. Flinging open the door to his room, she took off down the hall like a mad woman.

"Stop!" yelled Loki after her.

But she didn't stop. She didn't wait at all. She was running like her life depended on it. Which, as she thought about Edel's sinister face, it very well might.

How had she been so stupid? How had she not kept better track of the time? This had been a horrible idea.

Her high-heeled shoes were slipping around her feet. Frustrated, she quickly pulled them off and clutched them in her hand. She ran down the main stairs barefoot, and quickly slipped into a servant's passageway.

Her skirts were bunching around her feet as she ran, so Cecelia grabbed those too and held them above her waist to free her legs.

She needed to beat Astrior back to the room, she needed to get undressed, and no one could know where she had been tonight.

In a panic, Cecelia burst out from the servant's hall into the entryway down from Astrior's bedchambers. Flinging herself across the hall, She came face-to-face with Damian from the kitchen.

"You're late," he claimed simply. "Frija is waiting for you inside."

He opened the door for her and Cecelia ran inside. Frija was pacing across the room, and she screamed in shock as Cecelia burst in.

"Cece! What took you so long? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago!"

"I know, I'm sorry," said Cecelia, throwing Astrior's shoes to the floor and tearing desperately for the buttons on the back of her dress. "I got caught up with...things."

"You can tell me about them later," said Frija. "We need to get you back into your dress right away."

Frija bent to work at freeing Cecelia from the dress. Getting out seemed take a lot longer then getting in.

Once the dress was finally off, Cecelia threw on her brown smock and shoved the beautiful gown haphazardly into her closet room.

The girls froze when they heard two sharp raps upon the door.

"That's the signal from Damian, they're on their way!" said Frija hurriedly. She gave Cecelia a quick hug then dashed to the door. "I put the necklace back in the box. Don't forget to wash off your makeup! Hurry!" she exclaimed, as she made her way out. Cecelia could hear her and Damian running down the hall to the servants' entrance.

Frantically, she hurried over to the washbowl and scrubbed her face with lighting-fast speed.

She could hear footsteps in the outside hall. Quickly drying her face, she straightened up. Then she realized Astrior's shoes were still on the ground. She need to hide those. The footsteps had reached the door. The handle was turning. Launching herself at the shoes, Cecelia quickly caught them up and threw them into the closet just as the door opened and Astrior huffed her way inside.

Straightening up and trying to calm her frantic heartbeat, Cecelia turned to her stepsister smilingly.

"How was the ball, sister?"

"Shut up and get me undressed," snapped Astrior, kicking her shoes off onto the bed.

It wasn't until Cecelia was lying alone in her bed that night, still trying to catch her breath, that she realized she had once again left her purse with Loki. Why did he always seem to make her into such a forgetful person?

* * *

A/N-Well there's the ball scene! I know a lot of you were looking forward to it! so sad that she had to run off, but don't worry! She's going to have some more time to talk with Loki! Just maybe not right away as Cela!


	8. Chapter 8

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Frija, dropping her freshly wrung gown into the laundry pool. She ignored it and continued to stare at Cecelia with an incredulous stare. "You really danced with Loki? As in, Prince of Asgard Loki?"

"Yep," said Cecelia cheerily, reaching into the washing pool and fishing Frija's gown out for her. "And I went back to his room with him too."

Frija was looking to shocked to properly function anymore, so Cecelia re-wrung out her dress for her.

The two girls were crouched in their usual places by the washing pool in the laundry room. It was a bright day outside, and sunbeams streamed in through the windows, bouncing merrily off of soap bubbles and fresh linens as the girls scrubbed. There were a few other women around the pool, all involved in conversations of their own.

"You need to tell me everything," said Frija, regaining her ability to speak at last. "Start at the top. So you and I separated in the hall, then what's next?"

So Cecelia recounted her entire evening to Frija. It was a long story, as Frija stopped her constantly to ask her for specific details or to describe the scene a little more clearly. Cecelia told her everything she could remember, and when she got to the part about Loki recognizing her from the forest, Frija stopped her.

"What do you mean he 'recognized' you? Did he realize you were Astrior's servant?"

So Cecelia rewound her tale to last week and told of her encounter with Loki in the woods. She was careful not to give Frija any information that might help her make the connection between Astrior and herself, however. She didn't want anyone to know that she was really her stepsister. She would rather have them all continue thinking she was Astrior's ladyservent.

When she finished, Frija leaned back and clasped her hands together upon her chest.

"I can't believe it," she said at last, closing her eyes slowing as if to imagine the scene herself. "I can't believe you actually danced with the prince. And we didn't get caught."

"Well, your dress did most of the work, of course," said Cecelia gratefully. Frija's eyes flew open. "It made me look like a noblewoman; no one who saw me in it could have made the connection to the servant girl visiting with Igor's family."

"You didn't just look like a noblewoman," said Frija, now reaching into her basket for more of her own laundry to scrub. "You acted like one too. You had to play a very convincing part to get away with it, especially with everyone watching you with the prince! I expected you to simply watch and try some of their amazing food! I never imagined you would dance your way across the floor with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom!"

Cecelia laughed. "I aim to overachieve."

"I suppose so," said Frija thoughtfully. "How did you do it, though? How did you know how to act, when to bow and when to curtsey and all that?"

Cecelia sighed deeply. She had really hoped she wouldn't have to explain anything about her father. But Frija pressed.

"I was raised as a nobelwoman," she said, while Frija looked up in surprised. "My father was actually a very well-respected man. He got me the best tutors and lessons in dancing, etiquette, even needlework. But then he died and I had to make my own way in the world."

Frija caught her breath. "I am very sorry to hear that," she said, looking pitifully on Cecelia.

Cecelia shrugged her shoulders and turned away to her scrubbing. She did not like being looked upon like she was a delicate creature to be pitied. Luckily, the answer seemed to pacify Frija, and she did not ask any more questions about her dad.

The two girls scrubbed in silence for a while before Frija reignited the conversation.

"So, when are you going to tell Loki who you are?"

Cecelia yelped lightly and dropped a bucket of soapsuds into the pool. A few women next to them looked over at her with disdain. "Sorry," she mumbled at them, quickly pulling her bucket out of the water.

Turning back to Frija, she whispered furiously "What are you talking about?"

"What?" asked Frija in feigned confusion. "He loves you! At least he's starting to. He brought to back to his bedchambers, after all."

"To give me back my purse!"

"And then dance with you alone on the balcony," added Frija with a knowing look in her eyes. Cecelia silently cursed herself for giving Frija so much information. She should have known the easily excitable girl would have found a way to take it too far.

"He thought I was a noblewoman, Frija. Someone he could possibly fall in love with. But I am not."

"What does that matter?" Asked Frija haughtily. "Everything about you that he liked, your ability to dance, your delightful conversation, your sweet personality. Those things don't change when you take off your gown. You're still the girl he loves even down here in the laundry."

"He doesn't love me," said Cecelia firmly. Frija looked unconvinced. "He doesn't even love the me he thinks I am. He just met me in the forest and we danced; that was all. By tomorrow he'll have forgotten all about me."

Cecelia wished that she could forget about Loki as easily as she was sure he had forgotten about her. But it didn't seem to be an easy feat. Despite doing her best to convince Frija that her night with the prince had really meant nothing, and she had no plans to seek out Loki again, Cecelia couldn't stop thinking about him as she went around her chores that morning in the Laundry Room.

Cecelia was so distracted as she made her way through the servants' passages later that she really did not pay attention to where we was going all that well. Since she was still getting used to the pathways and secret entrances in the large palace, this was a very troubling ordeal and she had quickly turned herself around in so many ways that she was desperately lost.

"Oh bother," she snapped, looking for an exit. "This door might be it."

Cecelia choose a door that looked similar to the one leading to Astrior's hallway, and propped her laundry basket onto her knee so she could push against it.

The door seemed to be stuck. Clutching her basket with one hand, Cecelia pushed the door with all her might. When it still seemed reluctant to go, Cecelia concluded that this must not be the door she usually came in through. That one always opened easily. Still, she was so helplessly lost that she doubted she could find her way back. It seemed a better plan to burst her way out of this door and make her way back through the main entrances of the palace.

Holding her basket before her with two hands, Cecelia spun around and aimed her shoulder at the reluctant door. She took a deep breath then slammed into it with all her might, forcing the door to swing open at an incredible speed.

The door opened quickly at first, but stopped halfway through its large arc with a "thud!" Followed by a clamor, as though someone had fallen to the ground.

"Ouch!" Cried a voice indignantly.

Cecelia's momentum from hitting the door carried her out, and she ended up tripping over whoever was laying so inconveniently in her way.

Falling to the ground, Cecelia lost hold of her basket and showered the unsuspecting passerby in freshly laundered gowns.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" cried Cecelia suddenly, springing up to her knees as quickly as possible and trying desperately to untangle the man from the extra clothing she had accidently adorned him with.

"What happened? Who are you?" Growled a familiar voice. Prince Loki ripped a gown off of his head and glared up at his attacker.

"Loki!" exclaimed Cecelia. Then, quickly remembering her manners, she bowed her head. "I mean, Prince Loki. I am terribly sorry for running into you. It was an accident." Cecelia's heart raced as Loki looked her over. She reminded herself that she was in her common clothes, so she was safe. Loki couldn't recognize her when she was dressed like this. She hoped he couldn't see how nervous she was being so close to him.

"It's alright," mumbled Loki, pulling himself to his feet. Reaching down, he offered her his hand. There was no way to politely refuse it, but Cecelia let go the moment she was back on her feet. Despite her best efforts, her hand still stung with strange electricity from the few seconds they had been in contact. Her palms began to sweat and she hastily busied herself with gathering the gowns now strewn across the floor.

"I remember you," said Loki suddenly. Cecelia's heart started racing a million miles a minute, and she was careful not to meet the prince's eyes as she spoke.

"Really? I daresay you must be mistaken my prince." Cecelia tried her best to keep her voice steady, and hoped Loki couldn't detect any wavering in it.

"You are the Lady Astrior's handmaiden, aren't you? You ran into me in much the same manner last week."

"Oh," responded Cecelia, gratefully. "Yes, you are right my prince."

"Cecelia, wasn't it?"

"You have a very keen memory, Prince Loki."

"Yes, I suppose," said Loki mulling. He seemed to be previously distracted. Out of nowhere, he claimed, "Today is a great day, isn't it?"

Cecelia was taken back in surprise. She didn't have an answer, but luckily, Loki didn't seem to need one.

"Everything seems very exciting," continued Loki, with a gleam in his eye.

"I think you must have enjoyed the ball a little to much last night," said Cecelia jokingly. She knew she shouldn't bring up her presence at the ball last night in case it helped Loki recognize her, but she couldn't stop herself. A small part of her wanted Loki to realize who she was. An adventurous side of her brain was calling to the dangerous and exciting future she might have if he ever discovered her secret.

"Yes, the ball was magnificent," said Loki, still in a reminiscent state. "I wish life could be as fruitful every day."

"Why can't it?" asked Cecelia curiously. "You are the prince, after all."

"Unfortunately, that does not entitle me to immediate happiness," sighed Loki heavily.

"I'm sure you can make your days as fulfilling as you wish, Prince Loki. You just need to be willing to commit yourself to turning each one of your days in your favor."

Loki seemed to contemplate her words for a second. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion of some sort, and smiled. "You are quite right Cecelia. Have a nice day."

And without another look back, Loki continued on his way down the hall.

Surprised at his sudden departure, Cecelia gaped after him for a moment, before realizing where she was.

Where was she, exactly?

Looking around, Cecelia drew in a deep breath. She was in the private wing! Why, she was barely a hall away from prince Loki's private chambers! How had she managed to wander so far?

Cecelia hurried to collect her basket and shut the door. Then, throwing a daring look over her shoulder, she proceeded to make her way as quietly and quickly as she could down the hall.

She felt desperate to get out of the private wing of the castle. It wasn't like she thought she would be in too much trouble if she was caught there; Loki, for one, hadn't been incredibly disturbed that she was there or cared enough to ask. It was just that she had gotten a tight feeling in her chest when she realized how close she had been to Loki's rooms, so close to where they had danced together earlier this morning. It seemed as though her heart had been stuffed into one of Astrior's corsets, and was now being pulled against its' will into an hourglass shape.

As Cecelia grew closer to her own rooms, the tightness in her chest became more from the strain of running so long and less from her strange Loki-brought-on nerves. Still, she did not slow down until she had reached Astrior's hallway, and then continued with a strict stride down the hall.

Just as she passed her stepmother's bedchambers, the door flew open. As it opened it revealed Edel, who was standing boldly in the doorway glaring out to the hall, looking menacing.

"Cecelia," she snapped in a terse tone. "I would like a word, in my chambers please."

Edel spun quickly on her heel and made her way back into her bedroom without bothering to check if Cecelia was following. She knew the girl had no choice.

"Yes, Mistress Edel?" Cecelia asked, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Edel strode the full length of her room in a decisive manner, and stopped at her dresser. She set her hand upon the bare wooden top, and only then turned to face Cecelia.

"This is where my jewelry box usually sits." Said Edel in a frighteningly even tone. "Usually, except today when I went to look for it, it was not there."

Cecelia was confused. "But you gave me your jewelry box last night, and asked me to polish your necklaces."

"Yes," said Edel, cutting off Cecelia's explanations. "I gave it to you last night before we left for the ball. That left you with one thing to do for the entirety of the night, and you mean to tell me you still were not finished by this morning?"

Cecelia stared at her incredulously. "You do have a lot of necklaces, ma'am," she defended boldly.

"You seem to have managed perfectly fine in the past," said Edel dismissively. She removed her hand from her dresser and started walking back to Cecelia. "You have very few tasks around here Cecelia, and I expect you to get them done. Not only that, but I expect you to get them done well. I put up with your laziness and lack of concern for others back at our old house, but here you need to start acting like a good handmaiden. I expect you to be doing your best to see that Astrior succeeds with her mission. And that means doing everything I ask you to quickly and precisely."

Cecelia really did not see how having Edel's necklaces cleaned would have made her daughter any more appealing to the prince, but all she said was. "Yes ma'am."

Edel turned her head to one side and looked Cecelia up and down, as though sizing her up. "So where were you last night?" she asked at last.

Cecelia felt taken aback. "I'm sorry…I'm not sure I understand."

"Well you obviously weren't doing the tasks I laid out for you, so I am curious as to what you were doing with your time."

Cecelia flung her mind around for an answer. What could she possibly say that would sound convincing? She was new to the palace, she didn't have anywhere to go or any engagements she would have made.

"I was…" she started, still thinking desperately. "In the kitchens!" she exclaimed on sudden impulse. Edel's eyebrows rose slowly, as though in delayed shock.

"The kitchens?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yes, I met a girl down there when I was on my chores. Her name is Frija. She was kind to me." The story was pouring out of her mouth faster then she could think of the words. Lies mingled with truth to form what Cecelia hoped was a convincing tale. "She said if I met her down there I could learn how to roll out pastries for the ball and even try some. You know how much I loved to bake."

"Indeed," said Edel, looking unconvinced. "I had to put up with your father's praises about your cakes and pies for many years."

Cecelia felt her face grow hot. She hated the way Edel always talked about her father—as though he was a troublesome man meant to be put up with instead of one of the kindest, smartest, greatest people in the world.

Edel continued to watch Cecelia with a piercing glare. Cecelia shifted her weight from one foot to another, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Very well," said Edel at last. "I will expect my jewelry box retuned by this evening, with every piece shinning. And in the future it would be better if you didn't shirk your chores to meet up with your little palace friends."

Something about the way Edel emphasized 'palace friends' made Cecelia uneasy. Quickly turning, she fumbled with the door nob and made her way out down the hall. She could feel Edel's eyes following her all the way back to Astrior's rooms.

Why did Edel seem to feel like Cecelia was trying to sabotage Astrior's chances with a prince at every turn? Did she suspect Cecelia had been elsewhere on the ball night, elsewhere that was not the kitchen or the usual places occupied by servants?

No, Cecelia felt quite certain she and Frija and Damian where the only ones who knew her secret. If Edel had known anything, she would have dismissed Cecelia from the castle at once. She was probably just lashing out at anyone she could to stop thinking about Astrior's failure to capture the eye of a prince.

Cecelia was certain her secret was safe, and she would just have to be sure never to try anything so risky ever again. This dangerous life might have been exciting for Frija, but it didn't seem meant for Cecelia.

Besides, what she had told Frija was true. She was certain Loki would have forgotten all about the mysterious noblewoman by tomorrow, and life could return to normal.

* * *

A/N-Will things return to normal? Or will they get-crazier? Tell me in the reviews! And a big thank-you to everyone who reads and reviews! It really helps be keep up the writing so thanks big time! See you all soon, have a good weekend! :)


	9. Chapter 9

Cecelia had been very, very wrong.

She stood the next morning to the side in the breakfast hall, contemplating just how wrong she had been.

The answer was, shortly, a lot.

Only a few minutes before, Odin had risen and announced that his son, Loki, had a very important announcement to make. Thinking it was to be about another event or something related to the business of the kingdom, Cecelia focused her attention curiously on the prince's words. She could not bring herself to look him directly in the eyes after what had occurred between the two of them a few nights ago, so she settled for staring adamantly at his plate as he rose and began to speak.

Now, she stood there, utterly shocked, as he continued on with his plans.

"So you see, the announcements will be sent across the kingdom this afternoon, and I beseech if anyone has any information on this mysterious maiden to come forward immediately. I would very much like to meet her." Loki sat down to a shocked silence.

Odin picked up the conversation from his seat. "Yes, I saw the pair dancing at the ball, you might have seen them as well. They make quite a couple. Well, when Loki let me know that he knew little about this girl but was determined to find her, we came up with this plan together."

"She must mean a great deal to you, brother, if you are going through so much trouble for a girl you just met." called Thor from across the table.

"Well, she has certain intelligent attributes which are far beyond your level of comprehension. However, I find myself very much attracted to her and would like to know more about her. She rushed out so suddenly the night of the ball that we did not have nearly as much time to talk as I would have liked."

Cecelia stole a glance at Loki as everyone continued to pick up their own threads of conversation, talking adamantly about the search the prince was putting up. Loki sat calmly at the table, sipping from his goblet with a faraway look in his eye. He seemed very determined in his posture. Something about the way he squared his shoulders reminded her of their conversation yesterday, when she had unknowingly convinced him to do all he could to take charge of his own happiness.

Loki glanced up for a moment, and Cecelia quickly averted her gaze. The room seemed to be getting rather hot, and he shifted her weight between her feet, suddenly very anxious to leave.

As Cecelia scanned the room for something else to occupy her attention besides the contemplative prince, she noticed she did not seem to be the only one uncomfortable with the announcement.

Astrior was looking as haughty and flirting as ever, desperately trying to grasp at the attention of the older prince.

Edel, however, was not showing the King and Queen in compliments or loudly voicing her opinions as she usually did. She was sitting very quietly at her seat, not touching her food. She was instead glaring adamantly at her plate, for all the world looking as though it had insulted her entire family tree.

Edel seemed to notice she was being watched, and looked up at once, catching Cecelia's gaze. Cecelia felt the force of Edel' stare as though she had been pushed. Edel had never looked at her with such hate in her eyes before. She had never looked kindly upon Cecelia, to be sure, but to have such a powerful burning look of anger…Cecelia could not imagine the reason behind her step-mother's glares, and once again averted her eyes.

She dashed out of the breakfast room once they were finished as quickly as she could, following Astrior hurriedly up the stairs. She could feel Edel's eyes on her on the entire journey back to Astrior's rooms, and did not feel relief from their gaze until the two stepsisters were back in their own quarters, with the door firmly shut.

Astrior claimed she was feeling rather tired after her exhausting breakfast, and was going on a calming walk in the gardens.

"Busy yourself with cleaning this room while I am gone, will you?" She snapped at Cecelia tiredly as she made her way out of the door. Cecelia bowed low as she passed and shut the door firmly behind her stepsister.

"Phew," sighed Cecelia to herself once she was alone. She stumbled her way to Astrior's bed and sank down upon it, feeling her heart racing widely in her chest. Such a turn of events she had never imagined. Why did Loki seem so taken with her? Had she really left such a lasting impression on the prince that he was sending announcements out to the Lords of Asgard, asking for information about her?

Cecelia closed her eyes for a moment and imagined revealing herself to the prince. The two of them could finish their conversation from the other night, perhaps dance some more in his bedchambers.

Cecelia laughed at herself.

"He would not want me," she said out loud, as if to convince herself. "Once he realized who I was he would dismiss me for the commoner I am now. Plus, Edel would be furious with me. More then she is now, of course."

Sighing, Cecelia sunk deeper into the sheets.

A quick rapping sounded outside the door. Cecelia recognized it as Frija's anxious tapping.

Jumping off the bed as though she had been caught, Cecelia dashed across the room quickly and opened the door.

"My lady," greeted Frija, bowing quickly. Then, realizing it was Cecelia, she added; "Oh, it's you, good. Where is Astrior?"

"She's clearing her head in the gardens."

"Of what?" exclaimed Frija curiously. "Surly you need something in your head to start in order to clear it."

"Frija!" warned Cecelia.

"What? It's not like the soggy wench can hear us all the way from the gardens."

Then, without waiting for permission, Frija bustled her way into the room and shut the door behind her. She turned to face Cecelia with a look that made Cecelia quite sure she knew why Frija was there.

"So you've heard then," sighed Cecelia.

"Of course I've heard, the entire kingdom will be talking about it by now! Wondering who the mysterious noblewoman is who has captured the prince's heart."

"Well I am happy to be a topic of conversation for the week," said Cecelia.

"I'm sure this will last longer then a week, Cecelia. Especially if you are to be married."

"Married!" exclaimed Cecelia. "Who said anything about that?"

"Oh, a whole lot of people," gushed Frija. "There are a lot of rumors flying around. That the prince plans to wed you when he finds you seems to be the most believable. People are saying you captured his heart with a single dance, while others say you captured much more. There is talk that you are carrying his child."

"What?!" exclaimed Cecelia, aghast.

"Well no one with a hint of sense believes any of those such rumors," consoled Frija. "They are spread by the gossipy types who just want a good story. However, the general consensus is that the prince is very smitten, and will not stop until he finds this mysterious lady."

"Well I suppose he's going to have to stop before then, since he's not going to find me," claimed Cecelia firmly.

Frija looked appalled.

"You mean you're not going to go to him?"

"Go to him and say what, exactly?"

"Why, that you're the noblewoman! That you're his princess! I have your gown right here for the occasion; I sunk into your quarter when everyone was at dinner last night to wash it for you."

Frija pulled the gown from inside her robes and handed the cleaned dress to Cecelia. Cecelia did not take it.

"Frija, that was very kind of you, but I cannot go to the prince. He would not want me for his once she knows where I stand in the world."

"Oh, who cares about social standing anymore at a time like this? Mind you, this is not the most orthodox way of a prince courting anyway. He loves your person and your mind, he wouldn't care who you work for or are related to."

"No, you are wrong. Prince Loki does not like me; he likes the me I created for the ball. The noblewoman who darkens her eyes with makeup and dances the night away in golden palaces."

"That girl at the ball last night was you!"

"Yes, but a different me, don't you see? I am not that girl; my standing now would not allow me and Loki to be together in any way other then servant and prince."

"Oh come now, don't think like that," said Frija desperately.

"This is how I think!" yelled Cecelia. "I am not like you, Frija. I don't throw caution to the winds and jump into plans without any thought. I like to be smart about my plans, and going to Loki again as the girl I created for the ball is not a smart plan at all."

Frija looked upset. "I'm just trying to help," she said after a while of silence.

"I know," said Cecelia kindly. "And I thank you for looking out for me in your own way, but this is something I cannot do."

The two were silent for a moment. Then Cecelia pushed the dress back into Frija's arms. "I think you should keep the dress. I am not planning to wear it, and you put such effort into it."

Frija shook her head. "No, I made the dress for you. You keep it, in case you change your mind."

Cecelia nodded and took the dress, but she did not bother to correct Frija. She had made up her mind already, and she knew she would not change it.

The night, Cecelia once again stored the dress away in her little room, this time in the corner beneath her other clothes. A bit of the tulle poked out around the bottom, since it was slightly longer then her other gowns. Cecelia found herself staring at the light ring of tulle late into the night, itching to put it on.

* * *

A/N-But will she put it on again and don the Cela disguise? Keep reading to find out! XD


	10. Chapter 10

The next day Astrior awoke refreshed and reenergized, and ready for a new attack in her plans to win Prince Thor's favors.

"We will be joining Thor today on the grounds as he trains," claimed Astrior excitedly in the morning as Cecelia helped her get dressed. "He spends a good deal of his day training with his men and the Lady Sif. You will come with me in case I need assistance in anything. And don't forget my hat, this sun does terrible things for my complexion."

Nearly half and hour later, Cecelia was perched on a stadium chair behind Astrior, baking in the hot sun as they watched the best warriors in Asgard train on the grounds before them.

Thor and the Lady Sif seemed to be well matched as they sparred. Thor was stronger, but Sif swifter, so neither seemed to be able to get much of an edge on the other.

"They seem to make a good team," pointed out Cecelia, as she watched the two duel.

Astrior scoffed.

"You do not think Sif would be any competition in your quest to get the prince's attention, do you?" asked Cecelia, curious of her stepsister's thoughts.

Astrior rolled her eyes. "No, I am certain the prince has better taste then for a woman that looks more like a sweaty man then a lady."

"Hush, she might hear you!" exclaimed Cecelia, looking worriedly over at the pair.

Astrior threw her hair over her shoulder. "I am sure she cannot, she is to focused on her fighting. But if she can, perhaps it would be a good thing. She'd realize she should start taking more care in her appearance. Especially her unruly hair."

Cecelia shook her head and turned her attention back on the match.

Thor finally came out victorious, after catching up with one of Sif's attacks and knocking her to the ground. Astrior stood up and cheered loudly.

"Excellent attack my Lord!" shouted Astrior across the grounds. Thor turned to see where the commotion was coming from, and lifted his hand in thanks, with what Cecelia thought was a very forced smile.

As Thor helped Sif off the ground and the two returned to stow their weapons, a dark shape came ambling out of the woods.

"Ah, brother, care to join us in some friendly sparring?" asked Thor jovially, calling over the raven-haired god.

Cecelia quickly turned her attention to her lap, hoping the prince would not look her way.

"No brother, I am sorry, but I actually have important matters to attend to." Loki's voice sounded harsh and irritated.

"Oh come now, don't tell me you're afraid to lose. I'll let you battle Lady Sif instead if that would make you feel better."

Sif sent Thor a glare.

"No, it would not, in fact," snapped Loki. "Now if you excuse me, I must be on my way."

"Well what has got you so riled up?" inquired Thor. Cecelia herself was curious about that. Why was the God of Mischief so upset?

"None of your business," snapped Loki.

"Well, perhaps you will clear your anger away on the training grounds," said Thor confidently, throwing Loki a sword. Cecelia almost cried out, but Loki caught the sword easily.

"If a match is what it will take to get you to shut up, then so be it."

Thor laughed at his brother's response. "Excellent! Excellent! Just like old times, when we used to train together! Before you became such a moody old man."

Loki growled something at his brother and took his place in the arena.

"Go Thor!" yelled Astrior loudly, cheering and clapping.

Thor, smile still wide on his face at the happy prospect of dueling with his brother, took his place opposite in the arena.

"Let the match begin!" called Sif from the sidelines, where she had gathered with the other Asgardian warriors to watch the duel.

"I will go easy on you, of course," laughed Thor.

"Find no need to ease your pace on my account, brother. I am more then capable of keeping up with you."

Cecelia was sure that the younger prince would not be able to last long against his brother. Thor seemed much better suited for fighting, whereas Loki did not look as though he would have the nimbleness, nor strength to counter him. As the match started, however, Cecelia was surprised to find how well Loki was able to stand his ground. His smaller size allowed him to be agile when Thor could not, and he used many of the same deflecting tactics Sif had to block himself from Thor's strikes.

The two dueled together for some time, and match started to get more heated. Loki was attacking now, not simply defending himself, and Thor was forced to block with his sword occasionally as well as attack.

The outcome of the match seemed uncertain for a time. Loki was blocking so well that Thor seemed to forget his promise to go slowly, and began dueling in earnest. With a particularly well-planned strike, Thor caught Loki on the arm quicker then Loki could block.

There was a tearing sound as Loki's sleeve ripped, and blood began running down the blade of Thor's sword.

Cecelia gasped.

"Brother!" Cried Thor worriedly as Loki paused in his attacks to inspect the damage. Rushing forward, Thor pulled Loki's arm towards him and looked at the deep gash his sword had caused. "Brother, I am so sorry. I did not mean it. I was sure you were going to block that."

"Yes, and I was sure you weren't a blundering oath with no restraint." snapped Loki, pulling his arm away. "How deft do you have to be to draw blood with a blunt sword?"

"They're not really that blunt," defended Thor, inspecting Loki's arm again. "I should probably get you to the healers."

"What, is he hurt?" asked Astrior quietly.

"He seems to be," said Cecelia worriedly, trying to look around the taller brother and see the damage for herself. "I'm sure Thor will take him to the palace healers though, he should be fine."

"Thor leave? Well we certainly can't have that!" exclaimed Astrior quickly. Leaping over the divide, she quickly dashed over to the brothers.

"Your majesty, are you leaving your training so soon?" she asked, as Thor began leading his brother out of the arena.

"I am afraid must, my brother needs to get his arm looked at."

"I do not need you to shepherd me there, Thor," said Loki irritably. "I am quite capable of walking there myself. It is not my legs you have injured, after all."

"I still do not want you to go alone," said Thor determinedly.

"My Lord, allow my servant to escort him to the healers," said Astrior, signaling to Cecelia, who had followed her down from the stands.

Cecelia was internally terrified at the thought of being so close to the prince, but she could hardly have made her concerns known to the others.

"This way you may continue your training with your warriors, and Loki with have accompaniment to see his arm is righted," pitched Astrior.

Thor looked uncertain.

"That will be fine," said Loki quickly, pulling his good arm away from his brother's support. "I know Cecelia; she seems perfectly capable of walking, and that is all the assistance I need. Continue with your blatant sword-swinging, brother."

"Well, if you are certain," said Thor, turning to Cecelia. Cecelia quickly bowed to the prince, not knowing what else to do.

"We are all certain, the only one uncertain here is you, which is hardly out of place. Good day, Thor. Thank-you, Lady Astrior."

"Anything for my princes," curtseyed Astrior. She shot Cecelia a look meant to remind her of her duty to serve the prince well, and made her way back to the training area with Thor, already attempting to entice him with her looks.

Loki took off across the grounds at a quick pace, and Cecelia hurried to catch up to him.

"Does it hurt terribly?" she asked, looking at his left arm. His sleeved was ripped from the shoulder to the elbow, and a gash almost as long could be seen beneath the fabric. Blood was soaking through his sleeve, staining the green fabric brown.

"Not anything I cannot stand. I have had injuries much worse in my times dueling with Thor. It's a price you have to pay to be related to such a blundering fool."

"I am sure he did not mean it, my Lord."

"I am sure not," said Loki dismissively. "But the thing with Thor is that he so rarely means to cause harm when he does. Some would say he does not know his own strength, though I say it is because he does not know much of anything. He is a bit of an idiot, if you've ever had a conversation with him."

Cecelia smiled a bit. She knew Loki considered his intelligence far superior to his brother's, but she was certain he was not giving Thor his rightful credit. Thor might not have been a man of words, but he was definitely intelligent in many aspects, and always kind to those around him. The two brothers did seem to pick and fight with each other, however, as she was sure most brothers of such close age would.

As they made their way up to the palace, Cecelia flung her mind around looking for something to talk about. She did not like being in such close proximity to the prince, but she did not want to walk the entire way in such awkward silence. Sneaking a look at Loki out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his sour manner from earlier had returned.

"What seems to be bothering you, my lord? You do not seem yourself today."

"Really? I have heard others claim my personality is always one of dour silence."

"Yes, but today you seem exceptionally so," agreed Cecelia.

Loki sighed. "It is this whole matter with the noblewoman from the ball. I am sure you have heard of my announcement."

Cecelia's stomach twisted painfully. This was the one topic she had hoped they would not talk about. However, she forced her voice to be even as she replied. "Yes, I was in the breakfast hall as you announced it."

"Well, since then I have had a most horrible time trying to make sense of things. I have gotten a few messages from the surrounding nobles, but none of the women claiming to be the woman I danced with could give me details of our night together. It is almost as though the real woman does not wish to come forward."

Although this was true, Cecelia found herself wanting to comfort the disinherited prince. "It has only been a day," she reasoned. Loki waved her logic aside.

"Perhaps, but that is more then enough time to make herself known if she was interested. I have scanned many of the noble families around and none of them have a daughter that seems to fit my description. I thought we had a lovely time together, but it would not seem that she feels the same way."

Cecelia felt her heart sink. She did not like hearing the pain in Loki's voice. He was trying to hide it, she was sure, but she could feel his vulnerability. It surrounded him like a noxious cloud. She hated to think that she was the one causing his upset mood, but she knew it was for the best.

"You know, you were the one who convinced me to do this," said Loki suddenly. Cecelia looked at him, shocked. Loki laughed at her reaction. "Yes, remember the other day when you smashed into me with a door? You said I should try to fight for my happiness and that is what I am trying to do."

"Well, perhaps you should give your fight more time," said Cecelia firmly. The two had finally made their way to the healer's room and Cecelia was glad that here they would part.

Loki did not enter the room at first, however instead he stood, looking curiously at her.

"What is it?" she asked, feeling nervous.

"Nothing," said Loki, shaking his head quickly. "I suppose you are right, I should learn to be more patient."

Cecelia nodded.

"Well, thank-you for reassuring Thor and making sure I was able to find my way around my home," said Loki with an edge of sarcasm in his voice.

"Anytime," curtseyed Cecelia quickly.

Loki turned to enter the healer's room and Cecelia took off down the hall as quickly as she could without looking suspicious.

She had hoped that Loki would quickly forget about the mysterious noblewoman he had danced with, but it would appear that was not the case. He seemed to be just as smitten with her as she was with him, and Cecelia could not think for the life of her as a way to end his feelings nicely.

Part of her wasn't sure she wanted to end them. Cecelia thought longingly of the tulle and silver dress hanging hidden in her room. If only she could have had a few more minutes alone with Loki on the night of the ball, she was certain it would have been worth it.

* * *

AN-Aww, they got some time to talk alone. But Loki still doesn't reconize her! Blah! I know Thor can hurt his brother sometimes, but I hope I showed that he also cares for him deeply. I feel like a lot of fics don't give Thor much credit. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Please review if you did!


	11. Chapter 11

A week passed, and the rumors surrounding Loki's missing noblewoman were becoming more outrageous by the day.

Cecelia sat doing laundry around the washing pool with Frija and listened as women speculated about her origin and condition. It seemed to be now general agreement that she was a mystical being of some kind, sent to enchant the prince and make him fall in love. People were at odds as to why she had this mission, however.

"She couldn't possibly be wanting to take over the kingdom, Glenda. She must know Thor is the one she should set her magic on if that was the case."

"Perhaps she is simply trying to give the prince a taste of affection; goodness knows that with his sour temper he'd never be able to get it himself."

"I suppose we will just have to wait and see until his bastard child is brought to light."

Frija seemed to find it all rather amusing, and spent her time nodding adamantly at the rumor-spreaders and encouraging Cecelia to join in on the speculations. Cecelia felt Frija was only encouraging the servants more in their pursuits of gossip, and she did not appreciate it. Frija's humor was always in good fun, however, and so Cecelia could not hold her teases against her.

Meanwhile, Astrior was becoming more and more frustrated at Thor's lack of attention for her, to the extent that she had even Edel frazzled. Her irrational behavior seemed to be effecting those around her.

Master Igor's manservant had quit after Edel had threatened to tan his hide for dropping her favorite music box, sending the man running for the hills.

Cecelia was now being forced to act as Igor's servant as well as Astrior and Edel's until he could find a replacement. Cecelia did not mind in the slightest, however, as the tasks Igor set kept her busy in conference rooms and other parts of the castle away for Astrior.

Astrior was not the only one losing her temper. It seemed that the lack of information on his mysterious noblewoman was acting on prince Loki as well. He was even gloomier then usual, according to the servants, and hardly spent any of his time with others in the court.

Cecelia noticed his change in character as he sat in conferences with the Lords. He looked as impeccable as ever, but was severely distracted and uninterested in his soundings.

It was on one of these days that Cecelia was watching him worriedly from her corner in the council room, as she waited to hand Lord Igor his pens and files or fill the Lord's water glasses.

She had been required to stand in on many such meetings held in the palace now that she was Igor's servant as well, and at each one Loki had looked increasingly bored. Whereas he usually tried to engage with the Lords and offer his opinions, he now simply stared off into the distance with a curiously glazed look in his eyes.

"There have been talks of unsettled people in the realms, riots, perhaps, are on the horizon if something is not done about them." Cecelia was brought back to the present by the Lord's words and Igor's beckoning. Hastening to bring him the files he required, Cecelia hurried to the table and spread is paperwork before him.

"How am I to stop future riots when I do not even know what is unsettling these people now?" asked King Odin from his place at the head of the table.

Cecelia took a water jug from the nearby side table and made her way around the room, beginning to refill the Lord's goblets. She hoped that once she reached Loki she could encourage him to engage in his soundings more. She was worried his distantness might lose him his place on his father's council, and she would have hated to think he lost his favor with his father because he was brooding about her.

"This calls for a declaration of power!" shouted one of the haughtier Lords. "Show those who speak ill of you that you are a force to be reckoned with!"

"We cannot go to war over simple talks of unrest in the realms!" yelled another, outraged. Others chimed in with their yells and cries.

Odin leaned back wearily in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Seeing the king's distress, Cecelia quickly hurried to fill his goblet.

"Thank-you," said Odin wearily as the Lords continued to yell. "You seem to have read my mind."

"You looked like you needed something refreshing," commented Cecelia. The king did indeed look rather worn-out.

"It is all this yelling," said the King, gesturing to the Lords around him as he drank. "It solves nothing."

"Well perhaps that is because you do not know what needs to be solved," stated Cecelia quickly. Odin looked at her curiously.

"What do you mean, child?"

Cecelia was taken aback at being questioned by the King of Asgard, but she continued on. "Well, my father always was a great believer in communication. These people who are unsettled, perhaps they do not feel they are communicating well enough with you because they never see you."

Odin looked at her curiously, and then he clapped her hand happily. "I think you are right!" he exclaimed. He gestured to his room of Lords and raised his voice. "You have more a brain then half the men in here."

"Thank-you, my Lord," said Cecelia, bowing quickly and rushing away. She did not wish Odin to call attention to her. After all, what she had said simply seemed like an obvious notion, not anything incredibly intellect or special.

"Men, I know what needs to be done," stated Odin calmly. The Lords stopped their bickering to turn towards the king. "My people need to see me to know me, and I them. I think I need to take a trip to meet those that seem unsettled, and see what it is that is bothering them. Talking of dealing with this issue is of no help if we do not know what the issue is."

"If I may, my Lord," said Lord Igor, rising to his feet.

"You may," allowed Odin.

"I can arrange for an accompaniment to be made up for your journey, so you can reach all the troublesome places in the realm quickly and see the issues at hand."

Odin nodded. "Thank-you Igor, I trust your judgment. Arrange my procession quickly, and we will leave at sunrise. I would want this matter solved quickly. I will bring my son Thor, along with my most trusted advisors. I think it best these people see we have many on their side together."

Igor bowed deeply and took his seat.

"An excellent plan, my King!" cried the Lord at the end who had opened the meeting by suggesting that they declare war.

Odin found Cecelia in the crowd and nodded his tanks to her. "Yes it was, now this meeting is dismissed. I must make my preparations."

Cecelia filed her way out of the council room quietly behind the other Lords. As she saw Loki pass her quietly, she thought of what she had said to Odin.

"Communication is very important," she whispered to herself as she made her way down he hall. "Father always taught me that."

Cecelia allowed herself a moment to remember her times with her father, and of the knowledge he bestowed upon her.

"I am sure Astrior will want to accompany Igor on this trip," she realized, her pace quickening. "Why, nearly the entire palace will be empty, with everyone of importance traveling the realm for a few days at least!"

She would be mostly alone with Loki. A burning temptation that had been nudging at the edge of her mind all week suddenly burst to the surface. The all-too familiar image of her hidden dress popped into her head, concealed in her room, waiting.

Cecelia did not know if she could resist the urge to wear it again and seek out Loki much longer.

* * *

A/N-Is she going to sneak out to find him? Hmmm? Find out in the upcoming chapters! Also, Spring break is coming up which I am looking forward to A LOT! I plan to do a whole bunch of writing over spring break and hopefully get underway some more stories that have been bouncing around in my head. :)


	12. Chapter 12

Cecelia could not say that she would miss her family much as they left on this trip. To conserve time and space, Astrior wisely decided to leave Cecelia behind at the castle, although with a mountain of laundry and cleaning to do while she was gone.

Edel would also be accompanying her husband, as well as would Queen Frigga. Many of the Lords of the court and their wives were to be included in the royal possession, until it did indeed seem that Cecelia and Loki would be the only two left to remain.

Unfortunately, the trip was not to take many as days as Cecelia had hoped. Apparently, traveling the realm did not take as long as she had wagered, and Igor had said they would be returning the next day at midday. Still, that gave her plenty of time alone to pull off one of the most dangerous and Frija-like things Cecelia had ever done of her own accord.

"Mind you finish the chores I have given you by the time I return," snapped Astrior on her way out the door.

"Of course," curtsied Cecelia, too nervous about what she was about to do to care very much in what harsh tone Astrior spoke to her.

Once Astrior had left, Cecelia watched the royal possession gather through Astiror's window. She did not leave her post by the window until the last carriage had pulled out of royal gates and on its way down the path to the rest of Asgard.

Then, retreating into the room and closing the drapes, Cecelia began to nervously prepare.

She was too nervous and excited to think through her plan fully. She only knew that she desperately wanted to see Loki again, and this was the perfect time to don her disguise. She hovered a moment on the decision of her outfit, thinking it might be strange for Loki to see her twice in the same dress, and that perhaps she would be better off stealing one of Astiror's outfits.

She did not want Astrior to then go around flaunting the outfit beneath the prince's eyes and perhaps reveal Cecelia's identity, however, and besides, she felt far to edgy to pick out a cohesive outfit.

Dashing into her room, she ripped the dress from its hidden shelter and hurried her way into it. The she dashed to Astiror's makeup counter and applied liberal amounts of cosmetics to conceal herself. She was very careful to be sure each freckle was covered, that her eyes were completely dulled by the darkened lids, and her lips made unnaturally fuller. She was not trying to overdue herself by any means, but she did not want Loki, in the bright morning light, to realize once and for all who she really was. So she spent quite a bit of time at the makeup counter, disguising herself under so much artfully placed makeup that she hardly recognized herself.

Then she dashed her way out of the room and down the hall she knew that led to the royal family's quarters.

Although most of the servants were down in the kitchens and laundry rooms and this time, and with the royal family gone there was very little chance of her running into anyone, Cecelia was still nervous making her way through the private wing. She did not have a reasonable explanation as to her being there if she were caught, so she made her way as quietly and quickly as possible to the door she knew to be Loki's.

Cecelia only paused for a second outside his door, hand raised to knock, as doubts begin to fill her head for the first time. She had shoved them easily aside in her euphoria of daring planning, but now that she was actually here, it was terrifying. She was on the verge of turning back and forgetting this whole ridiculous plan, but she really did want to see Loki again. She longed to see him smile and attempt to make him laugh in the way that others living at the palace could not.

And besides, when would she ever have another, so perfect opportunity as this?

So Cecelia squared herself tightly and knocked.

"Who is it?" questioned Loki's sour voice from the other side.

"It's me." called Cecelia tentatively.

"Me who?" snapped Loki. "I do not know anyone by that name so if you feel I should give you my time you are going to need to be more specific."

Cecelia was shocked by his harsh tone, but she was not able to back down now. "It's Cela," she called. She could hear a sudden scramble in the room. "I'm the girl-" Before she could even finish her words, the door flew up.

There stood Loki, looking slightly disheveled, with his black hair out of place and his tunic pulled sideways. He had clearly come to the door in a hurry.

"Cela!" he cried, reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Why, you are really here after all!" Loki looked so happy to see her. By then, his eyes suddenly became dark, and he dropped her hand. She wished he hadn't; her hand seemed to grow instantly cold the moment he let it go. Or perhaps it was the effect of his cool glare he now thrust upon her. "I suppose you saw my announcement?" he asked indifferently.

Cecelia curtsied slowly. "I did, my prince." She spoke in a careful tone, not sure how to react to his manner.

"I am to wonder why it has taken you a full week to respond. I was beginning to think you did not feel as I did when we danced."

"Not at all!" exclaimed Cecelia. She reached for his hand, but he pulled back. Cecelia allowed her own hand to drop and her shoulders sagged. "Perhaps it would be better if I left…"

"NO no!" cried Loki as she began to turn away. Cecelia smiled to herself. She turned back to him and faced him with a steady gaze. Loki swallowed. "Please, stay. I'm just surprised, is all."

"Well perhaps I could come in, and we could talk." Without waiting for much of an answer, Cecelia made her way past him and into his room. She did not like being exposed in the royal halls, and felt much safer once she was hidden in the privacy of his chambers.

"Of course," conceded Loki, a bit late. He turned to close the door.

Cecelia looked about his room. The week of her silence had clearly been difficult on the prince's patience. Books were strewn across the floor, and papers piled over his desk. His bed was mussed and unruly, with opened books lying all around, looking overturned and disregarded. The telltale dip in the center of the bed made Cecelia think the prince had been lying there reading, and had quickly vacated the bed at her knock.

Loki turned to face her. "Ah, yes," he said nervously as he observed the room as well, as though only now noticing the mess. "Well, I suppose I have not been the neatest this past week. Forgive me, I was not expecting guests."

Cecelia felt a stab of guilt but she forced a smile. She was here now; Loki would have to accept her time now while she had the courage.

"Here," he nodded; quickly he cast his sedir over the room. Books returned to their shelves, papers arranged themselves in tidy piles on his desk, and his sheets upon his bed quickly remade themselves. "There, that's much better."

Cecelia could only nod. She was finding it hard to speak, now being in such an intimate space with the prince. She had been so focused on gathering the courage to see him again; she hadn't given a thought to possible conversation tactics after she arrived.

Loki seemed to feel nervous as well, and seemed to just realize his less then graceful appearance. He began messing with his lopsided tunic and ran his hands repeatedly through his rough hair.

"Here, allow me," said Cecelia, finally finding her courage to speak. Helping people look their best was one of her main skills, having lived with the sole purpose of prettying Astrior for the greater part of her life.

Reaching forward, Cecelia grabbed the lower part of Loki's tunic and straightened it for him. Loki let out a low grunt. Cecelia looked up, just now realizing how close she was to him. His emerald eyes were observing her closely, watching her face carefully.

Cecelia wasn't comfortable with such direct eye contact, so she instead averted her eyes to his hairline. Without thinking, she reached up and ran her own fingers through his black strands, brushing them back into place. His hair was surprisingly smooth to the touch. It seemed he had laid off whatever hair care product he usually used to make it shinny over the past week, and Cecelia found she liked this natural look and feel much better.

Loki closed his eyes slightly as she messed with his hair, seeming to enjoy her touch. When he opened his eyes again, Cecelia suddenly realized how close their faces where. She could feel his breath, quick and excited, against her cheek.

Embarrassed, she quickly jumped away. Her hand leapt to her own hair and she began to brush invisible strands behind her ears.

"You look nice," commented Loki suddenly, causing Cecelia to jump. "You are wearing the same dress you wore to the ball."

"Oh yes," said Cecelia, looking down to her silver skirt. "I wanted to be sure you knew it was me."

"I am sure I could recognize you anywhere."

Cecelia held back a laugh at how wrong he was. His words seemed so sincere; she did not want to ruin his trusting gaze. But oh, how terribly mistaken he was in his abilities of observation.

"You look nice as well," she said, for lack of another comment. Her father had always said the best way to repay a compliment was with another compliment. He also strove to make his compliments specific, in the hopes it would start a conversation, so she added. "I like your hair better this way."

Loki laughed, shaking back his head so that bits of hair tasseled back out of place. "Yes, I have not been keeping up with my hair care as much as I usually do."

"I like it better this way, seriously," she added, because Loki was looking disbelieving. "I mean, it was fine before, but always so slicked-looking and almost unnatural. It looks more like you this way."

Loki observed her pointedly. Cecelia felt herself going red again and started to fiddle with her bodice.

"Why did it take you so long to respond to my announcement?" he asked slowly.

Cecelia sighed. She had really hoped he would get over that and they could just go about enjoying their time together. Clearly, he wanted answers.

"I suppose I was afraid you wouldn't truly want to see me again," she said slowly. "It was just a dance one night, late at a party with plenty of wine. I supposed the morning's light might change your mind. I suppose I was afraid."

"You need not have feared," said Loki, moving close to her suddenly. She wanted to take a step away from him, fearing she would lose herself if he got to close again. But something about his eyes was freezing her in place. "You forget about the dance we had in the forest. I have now met you three times, and have felt enamored by you each time more then the last. I only wish the opportunity to spend more time with you and get to know you better."

"That is what I want as well." Finally, something she could say to him that was completely truthful.

Loki was suddenly very close to her. She had seen him coming, slowly, but when he was suddenly by her side so they were almost touching; it seemed to have come out of nowhere. He was so close; she could feel her heart rate rising rapidly. She began to feel uncomfortably hot with his closeness; yet she could not seem to move. She did not like looking so intently into his eyes, but she could not seem to tear her gaze away. Everything about him was just so magical; she wanted to move away, and get closer at the same time. To lay with him for hours, and sprint away down the hall back to her small cot in her hidden closet.

"Shall we have tea then?" he asked in a suddenly jovial tone.

"T-tea?" stuttered Cecelia, still trying to collect her thoughts.

"Yes, I think tea in the gardens would be quite nice. It will give us a chance to talk in the environment you seem to love to dance through in beautiful gowns so much." He winked at her as he made his way to the door to call for a maid.

Cecelia stood still a moment to catch her breath. He seemed to have become rather lighthearted all of a sudden; she wondered if he could feel the same enchantment radiating from her that she felt from him. Part of her was grateful he had turned the conversation and suggested time outdoors; it would likely clear her head nicely to be in the gardens. Part of her, however, was irked he could tear himself away so easily. Did he not feel the same strange pull to her that she felt to him?

"Are you coming, Cela?" his voice came to her from across the room, and Cecelia realized he was holding the door for her. "I have called for tea; it will be waiting for us in the gardens."

"Yes, of course. That sounds wonderful," nodded Cecelia, gathering herself and making her way to him. She was overthinking all of this too much; after all, she had taken this chance because it was her one opportunity to enjoy herself with this mysterious prince. She couldn't spend the whole day in curious thoughts and intrusive memories.

Taking the arm he offered her, Cecelia allowed herself to be led through the palace and out into the fresh air.

Cecelia had been right; the peacefulness of the outdoors and the beautiful gardens seemed to be just the thing to calm her down. As they walked over the small stone pathways between beautifully colored flowers, Cecelia found her mind clearing and her ability to think and speak coherently returning.

Loki seemed to know a great deal about botany, and regaled her in tales of flowers and their uses as they walked along.

"That is fox glove," he pointed to a beautiful cone-shaped flower with pink spots.

"It is beautiful."

"Beautiful and deadly. Even a petal or a part of the stem would kill you for sure if you happened to ingest it."

"Oh, how lovely," said Cecelia sarcastically. Loki laughed. She really loved the sound of his laugher, so carefree, like a child's. It was hard to hear it coming from a man she knew to be so moody and dour most of his time.

"That one is known for its fragrance, here." he plucked a small white flower with waxy green leaves from a brush and held it out for her to smell. Its' scent seemed to be a mix of sweet vanilla and some enchanting fruit Cecelia couldn't quite place.

"It smells amazing!" She gasped.

Loki tucked the flower gently behind her ear.

"It matches your dress nicely," he shrugged in answer to her curious look.

As they reached the center of the gardens, Cecelia caught sight of a small table set for two, with assorted treats and pastries set on silver platters around it. A stunning teapot with porcelain teacups sat at the middle of the table.

"Oh," she said disappointedly as Loki offered her a chair. "But I'm having so much fun walking with you. Could we not take our tea to go, perhaps, and continue our patrolling of the gardens? It seems a shame to sit still on such a day like this."

"I am certain that could be arranged," said Loki, surprised by her spontaniousness, but willing to play along all the same.

They quickly filled their hands with pastries and took a brimming teacup each before turning and continuing their stroll throughout the gardens.

As they walked, they talked of a variety of things, from the lovely weather, to the beautiful flowers, to how Loki's family was fairing with the talks of unrest throughout the kingdom.

With her hands full of sugary sweets and tea, Cecelia could no longer hold Loki's arm as they walked. He walked so close to her as they made their way, however, that their arms brushed together with each step. Every time his arm made contact with hers she had to remind herself not to gasp in surprise. Her arms were bare, and even through his long dark sleeves she could still feel his warmth radiating outward. As they continued their walk into the forest the path got narrower, and Loki walked even closer beside her. Cecelia found in harder and harder to focus on his words rather then his body, which seemed to grow closer with every step.

"Watch out!" exclaimed Loki, grabbing her arm.

He was too late with his warning, however. Cecelia, who had been focusing on his proximity far more then where she was going, stepped without looking into a deep pile of mud.

With an unpleasant schwlching sound, Cecelia's foot sunk deeply into the mud, sinking up far past her ankle.

"Oh bother," she exclaimed, forgetting her elegance as she pulled her dirty foot from the mud. Her shoe was completely covered in the filthy sludge.

"I can have it cleaned back at the palace," promised Loki.

"I have faced much worse stains then mud," Cecelia assured him. "Just find me a stream for now so I can rinse my foot."

"A stream…?" questioned Loki, looking confused.

"Well if there's mud in the dirt there must be a water source nearby. You don't expect me to end our walk because I simply stepped in a pile of mud, do you?"

"Most of the girls I know at the palace probably would."

"Well I suppose I find myself in a very different position from those girls," said Cecelia firmly, looking around them for the stream. "I am enjoying myself far to much to end our walk here. Oh, there it is."

Finding the stream, Cecelia unsteadily made her way to it; wincing at the unsteadiness her now slippery sandal now gave her.

Cecelia set her teacup down on a moss-covered rock and removed both her shoes, rinsing the excess mud off her one shoes before stepping into the stream herself.

"Oh it's so cold!" she exclaimed to Loki, who had set his teacup down besides hers. "Come on Loki, join in!"

"Join in..?" Loki looked bemused. "You mean join you in the stream?"

"Yes, you big dolt," she exclaimed, kicking a bit of water his way so that it splashed upon the knees of his dark pants. "Join in! It's cold and will cool you off."

Loki looked unsure, so she ran out of the stream and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him down to the stream with her.

"Alright aright," he caved, pulling off his own shoes and setting then beside hers.

"Finally!" she exclaimed in mock exasperation.

Loki rolled up the ankles of his pants and followed her into the stream. She could tell he noticed the cold, but he refused to acknowledge it. Typical man.

"Let's go!" Pulling up her skirts high above her knee, Cecelia took off down the stream, running along the damp rocks and slipping on leaves.

"Wait, where are you going?" called Loki after her, hurrying to keep up.

"To have an adventure!" she called back. She loved the feeling of the cold water on her feet and the warm breath of summer on her skin. The colors of the forest rushed by her, a dazzling arrangement of greens and golds.

As the stream began to widen, Cecelia stopped and pulled Loki to the center.

"Shall we dance then, my spontaneous Cela?" asked the prince, putting his arms around her waist.

"The forest is calling for a performance!" agreed Cecelia, setting her arms around his neck as they began to dance.

The water splashed around their feet as they moved flawlessly together around the pool, their steps as perfectly timed and elegant in the forest stream as they had been at the king's ball.

The animals of the forest chimed in with their music, creating an impeccable band of birds, squirrels, and insects.

Loki grabbed her waist tightly and lifted her from the water, spinning her around him. Cecelia squealed as she felt her feet leave the ground, the train of her dress spraying water out around them.

"I've missed our dancing in the forest," said Loki quietly as she set her down at last.

Cecelia's feet found their footing on the soft leaves of the stream. Prompted by his words, she looked up at Loki. She was once again aware of their closeness.

"I have too," she admitted. "I have often thought about our first meeting in the forest. I didn't know you were a prince then."

"Would you have changed your mind about dancing with me if you had known?"

"No," answered Cecelia truthfully. "The forest does strange things to a person. No one seems to be prince or pauper here; we are all one with nature and its beauty. You were just another human reveling in the surrounding beauty."

"I was."

Cecelia found her eyes drawn to his. Those emerald windows, so sharp and sparkling. They reflected her own each time she looked into them. She felt, as she watched them, that she was peering intently into a private part of Loki's character. Something as bold and daring as his emerald orbs.

"You seem at a loss for words, my lady," cooed Loki, his eyes moving ever closer.

Cecelia nodded slowly. Her breath was getting quicker. She placed a hand upon his chest to steady herself. She could feel his heart pounding beneath his tunic. The beats seemed to be in tune with that of her own cardiac organ.

Everything around her seemed to dim. The forest grew quiet, save for the sound of her heart, beating in tune with his. The colors of the trees and surroundings seemed dull, nothing stood out but his bright eyes. Even her feet seemed numb to the cold of the stream.

Standing on her tiptoes, Cecelia leaned in closer to Loki, pulling herself close to his face. Loki responded by bending closer to her, both of them leaning in together until their foreheads met.

He was so close; she could feel his breath again on her cheek. Only this time, she did not feel the urge to pull away. She only wanted to get closer. She turned her head further upward; searching.

Suddenly, he closed the distance the rest of the way; pressing his lips against hers.

A/N-How's everyone's Spring Break going? I'm using it to write/edit/and also revive some of my forgotten stories! Plus a whole lot of reading and laying around. Hope everyone else is having a good break too! And that you enjoyed this chapter! :)


	13. Chapter 13

Cecelia closed her eyes and moaned at his touch, leaning closer into him.

He seemed to be pouring energy into her with the kiss. She was feeling things she could not seem to explain. Her stomach was doing all sorts of gymnastics, and her heart was thumping madly. All she knew was that she wanted to get closer to him in every way.

Reaching around his back, she pulled her hands behind his neck, interlocking her fingers and pulling him closer to her.

He reached his arms tightly around her waist, lifting her closer to him until she was standing on the very tips of her toes.

He pressed his lips against hers softly at first, once, twice, three times. After the eighth time he did not pull away, but instead sunk his lips deeper into hers, melding them together perfectly.

Cecelia opened her mouth and let him in, furthering their connection. She took his bottom lip in hers, feeling the softness of his mouth in every way possible. It was his turn to moan now.

Cecelia did not know how long they stood in the stream in that manner. It could have been days for all she knew, but it was realistically probably only a few minutes.

When they finally pulled apart, Cecelia gasped, pulling in deep breaths to steady herself.

As she opened her eyes, the rest of the forest seemed to come back into her senses. The birds were making noise again, had they ever stopped? And the stream was once again rushing over her feet, tickling them with its coolness.

"Wow," she gasped as soon as she had enough breath back to speak.

Loki laughed, leaning back in until their faces were once again inches apart. "My thoughts exactly."

Then Cecelia laughed along with him as they stood their, swaying slowly in the stream, foreheads pressed close together.

Finally, Cecelia pulled away. "I really think we should head back."

"Oh, must we?" moaned Loki, trying to pull her back to him."

"Yes, because as fun as this has been, my feet are starting to go numb."

"Well, if you insist," said Loki sadly, looking like a child that had been denied his favorite candy.

"We can continue to have fun back in the castle," promised Cecelia, to which Loki's face lit up. "But we really need to go now, I seriously cannot feel my feet at all."

"Allow me to help you with that." And without any warning at all, Loki lifted her up and settled her into his arms bridal style.

"Loki!" gasped Cecelia, shocked at being lifted so suddenly from the ground. "Put me down!"

"Why?" asked Loki innocently as he began to make his way back along the stream. "You said your feet were cold."

"They were," agreed Cecelia.

"And this way they are not." Loki stated with a feeling of finality.

And with that, Loki refused to set her down. Cecelia could not find it in her to complain, as she rather liked the feeling of being carried, though she was not used to it. Loki was much stronger then she had given him credit for, and she felt his firm muscles pressing against the fabric of his sleeves as he carried her easily through the woods.

When they reached the origin of their stream escapade, Loki gently set her down on the rock.

"I believe your shoes have recovered from their flounder in the mud," commented Loki, reaching for her sandals. Allow me." Kneeling before her, Loki gently slipped her sandals onto her feet. Cecelia bit her lip to keep from uttering a sound as his hands cradled her feet gently. She could feel his touch as though he was charged with electricity.

When both her shoes were on, he rose and helped her to his feet. Then he quickly pulled on his own and gathered up their empty teacups. Offering her his arm, they made their way jovially back through the forest.

Everything seemed shockingly vivid to Cecelia as they made their way back towards the castle. It could have been the beautiful performance the sun was issuing as it slowly sank to its depths behind Asgard. Or it could have been the muddle of feelings and emotions that had been swirling in her head since her kiss with Loki.

She had expected herself to be an awkward mess after such an experience, but Loki seemed perfectly calm and composed, and she took his lead.

As they made their way out of the forest and across the gardens back to the castle, the two of them spoke of many menial things, such as the sunset and the beauty of the palace grounds. Their conversation seemed like a polite exchange between two friends, but the eclectic charge Cecelia felt as she held Loki's arm told her a different story.

"Do you need to leave with your carriage?" asked Loki, as they reached the front of the castle.

"What?" asked Cecelia, caught off-guard. "Um, no. I had the carriage drop me off. It will return for me when I send my handmaiden to fetch it."

"You had your carriage drop you off?" repeated Loki. "I suppose this seems like a late question, but how did you get into the palace anyway? I never asked you how you managed to waltz your way past my guards to my private quarters. That seems like a serious flaw in our security."

"I told them I was the girl you were searching for and they let me in at the gates," shrugged Cecelia, thinking quickly. "I was supposed to tell the guards at the palace who I was and they would fetch you for me, but I remembered where your room was, so I slipped in the back and made my way there unnoticed."

Loki started at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Well I suppose if anyone is to managed to sneak past the most well-trained guards in the kingdom, it would be you."

"I supposed the guard was more relaxed with most of the royal court out of the palace," said Cecelia off-handedly. Silently, she thanked her mind for its quick wit and that Loki believed her story. She hadn't realized in her haste how suspicious it would look for her to turn up at his private chambers without a carriage in the royal stables.

"So you are not expected back right away?"

"No," said Cecelia, smiling up at him. "I told my attendants not to wait for me. I said I did not know when I would return."

"Your mother..."

"She is dead," said Cecelia silently. Loki drew in a quick breath. "I never got to meet her. She died giving birth to me."

"I am sorry," he said, reaching for her hand and holding it tightly. "I knew about your father, but I didn't realize both your parents…"

"Yes, it's quite a somber story I suppose," brushed off Cecelia. "But I rather not spend such precious time on such sad thoughts. I'm sure they would be happy for me now."

Loki rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb reassuringly. "I am sure," he said. "And although our time together is precious to me, you must realize this does not need to be our last time meeting. If all goes well I hope to be seeing much more of you."

Cecelia did not know how to respond to such a comment, so she simply smiled and held his hand tightly. She could not help feeling guilty, however, as he led her through the main part of the palace.

They could not spend endless amounts of time together, as Loki seemed to think. It was not possible. She supposed she had been stupid to think she could have such a carefree day with the prince. She would only hurt him more when she left again, as she knew she must. He could never learn the truth about her identity.

"Are you hungry?" asked Loki suddenly, pulling Cecelia out of her thoughts. She thought about it for a second, then nodded. "We could have dinner sent to my rooms," he whispered, leaning closer to her and whispering into her ear. She felt shivers down her spine, and blush crept up her face from his displays in such a public area. Although nearly no one was in the palace and the chances of them being seen were minimal, she did not feel overly comfortable with it. She did think having some privacy would be a good thing if he was going to continue to be so affectionate.

"I think that would be a wonderful idea," she agreed enthusiastically. She pushed her doubts out of her mind as Loki cheerfully led her up the stairs. She could feel guilty later; today was for fun with Loki.

Frija delivered their meal to Loki's room.

Cecelia did not know how she had found out, but knowing Frija, she should not have been surprised. The maid cheerfully delivered their tray of dinner to Loki's rooms, smiling widely as she did so.

"Here is you tray, prince Loki. Dinner for you and…your company," she winked, smiling widely at Cecelia.

Cecelia hid her smile and blushed.

"Thank-you, set it here please," said Loki, leading her out to his deck without noticing the girls' exchange.

"Will you be requiring anything else?"

"No, that will be all. Thank-you."

Frija bowed happily and made her way out the door, smiling again at Cecelia as she passed by.

"Have a lovely evening with the prince, miss." said Frija, barely containing her laughter. Cecelia sent her a warning glare. Frija dashed quickly to the door, closing it quickly behind her and smothering her laughter with her hand.

"Shall we eat?" asked Loki; gesturing to the table he had set up on the deck.

Cecelia smiled for answer, and allowed herself to be led out to the deck. The two dinned on roast chicken and smoked potatoes as they watched the glowing orange sun sink silently out of sight beyond the bifrost.

"Sunsets are always beautiful," said Loki, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. "But night is my favorite time. As the city grows darker, Asgard seems to come alive."

He was right. As the remaining bits of light left the sky, Asgard replaced the natural light with torches and bonfires, filling the countryside with glowing wonder.

"Come join me," said Loki after awhile, indicating to a spot beside him in his chair. "I can't bear to have you as far away in the dark; I can hardly see you now in the night."

Laughing, Cecelia left her seat to join him. Although there was plenty of space on the deck chair for them to sit side by side, Loki pulled her onto his lap instead. Cecelia pulled her feet into her chest, laying across him as she peered up into the night sky.

Loki seemed to have just as an extensive knowledge about constellations as he did about flowers. He filled the night with stories about the stars, telling her everything from Asgardian fables to Midgarian tales surrounding the constellations.

Cecelia was fascinated. It had been awhile since she had pulled her mind out of the mundane world to acknowledge that there was such wonder in the world around her. She wondered now how she could have missed it.

As the night grew darker and colder, Cecelia began to feel the chill. She shivered as a breeze washed over them from the grounds.

"Are you cold?" asked Loki suddenly, feeling the movement. "Perhaps we should move inside."

"Oh no, I am enjoying your stories too much!" cried Cecelia.

"Very well, then take this." Loki pulled off his tunic and wrapped it around her shoulders. Cecelia felt comforted by the warm leather. It smelled of him, somehow, though she never could have explained his scent; she just knew it.

Even with his tunic, the night air was still chilly, and soon even Cecelia had to admit it was uncomfortable. Loki's long-sleeved shirt protected him well, but Cecelia's strapless gown really wasn't made for late-night stargazing.

Although neither of them wanted to admit it, the time had come for them to leave their stargazing upon the deck.

"Should I call for your handmaiden?" asked Loki as he led her inside. "She can start arranging your carriage for you."

"Oh," said Cecelia, thinking fast. "I doubt I will be able to make it back so late.."

"Would you like to stay the night here?" asked Loki, then, realizing what he had said, he stumbled to correct himself. "Not here, of course. I can arrange a guest chamber to be made up for you."

Since she could think of no reason to deny him, and 'I already have a room here, sleeping in Astrior's handmaiden's room' seemed a little hard to explain, Cecelia nodded. "That would be wonderful, thank-you."

Loki left to have her room made, and returned shortly.

"It should be ready soon," he promised her.

"Thank-you," repeated Cecelia. "I'm glad I don't have to leave right away. I enjoy spending time with you."

"And I you," said Loki. "And this way you can get to know the rest of my family more thoroughly once they return; they should be back in the afternoon sometime tomorrow."

Cecelia decided to pass on explaining that would be impossible, and simply smiled.

Her eyes drifted around the room and she caught sight of his impressive bookshelf. Walking to it, she pulled off a book at random.

"Mind reading me a story to pass the time?" she asked. She had always loved it when her father read her stories.

"Certainty." said Loki. He walk up beside her and took the book from her, then led her to his bed. He sat down upon it and motioned for her to climb up beside him.

Cecelia tried not to think that they were lying alone in a bed together as she crawled in next to him. She wondered what exactly Loki was thinking, but he genuinely seemed interested in nothing but reading her a bedtime story.

Loki wrapped him arm tightly around her and opened the book to its first page.

"I think you are going to like this tale," he said as she snuggled close to him. "It is a Midgard story and it includes dancing."

"One of my favorite things!" laughed Cecelia tiredly.

As Loki began to read Cecelia leaned against his chest, loving the way the vibrations of his deep voice resonated in her head. She realized with a jolt how safe she felt here, in his arms. She had not felt this safe and secure since her father had died.

She loved Loki's story, but the excitement of the day finally seemed to be catching up to her, and she fought to keep her eyes open. By the end of the story that was a lost battle, however.

It turned out she did not need that guest room after all.

* * *

A/N-Cute! I love the happy moments I get to write between these two! Things are about to get unfortunate, however...


	14. Chapter 14

Cecelia awoke the next morning to someone stroking her hair.

"Ah, you are awake," said Loki softly as she rolled over to look at him.

"I am sorry," yawned Cecelia. "Did I doze off? What time is it?"

"Well into the morning if the sun is to be a guide," laughed Loki. "You did a fair more then doze off."

Cecelia's mind leapt up, but her body lay resting. She was not ready to leave the warm cocoon of Loki's arms. She was still shocked, however, to find herself so close to him in such an intimate way.

"You mean I slept here all night?" she could not keep the surprise out of her voice.

"I suppose we both did," laughed Loki a bit, smiling at her shock. "I honestly do not remember much. You fell asleep while I was reading to you, and then the maid came in to tell me that your bed was ready, but by then it seemed pointless to move you. Quite a funny girl, she seemed to find the situation rather laughable."

Cecelia hid a smile. She had a feeling she knew which maid had been the one to see her and Loki together in bed, and she was sure she would hear of it nonstop later.

"So, are you ready to get up?" asked Loki, raising himself slightly.

"Not yet," answered Cecelia sleepily, pulling him back to her. "Stay for a few more minutes. Why rush to be up so early?"

"I am in no rush," conceded Loki, lowering himself again.

Cecelia propped her head beneath her arm and reached out with her free hand to brush Loki's bedraggled hair out of his face. It was as soft as it had been the day before, albeit a little more messy after his sleep.

Loki gently closed his eyes as she smoothed his hair. Feeling brave, Cecelia reached around his face, cupping his chin in her hand. His face was smooth, as though he had only shaved the day before. Cleary he had not let all of his personal hygiene go while he had been bemoaning her silence the week before.

Loki opened his eyes to find her watching him intently.

"You seem to be watching me quite closely, miss," he growled, pulling her closer to him and wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Do you like what you see?"

Cecelia laughed, leaving his face and returning her hands to the softness of his black hair.

"I like it very much," she whispered seductively, leaning closer. She had no idea what she was doing, laying in such a way with a man she had only known for a few weeks, but something about Loki made her lose all sense of thought.

Loki smiled happily as if this answer pleased him. He was watching her eyes, but every once in awhile they would flick to her lips, as if he were trying to avoid it but his eyes were being drawn there anyway.

"What are you thinking about, Loki?" asked Cecelia, feeling she already knew the answer.

"I am thinking how very much I would like to kiss you again."

"Well then, why don't you?"

"I am waiting for you to say that I may. Some women, I have heard, do not like such things this early in the morning."

"Oh Loki," sigh Cecelia, touched by his considerateness. "I could never not want your feeling at anytime in the day."

"So that means I may kiss you?"

"Yes, of course you may."

Loki murmured in pleasure. He carefully angled himself closer to her, and Cecelia could feel her heart rate increase as he pulled her in even closer to his body, and lowered his lips to kiss her.

He did not kiss her lips at first, but rather the edge of her mouth, cheeks, and neck. He kissed her lightly all across her face so that she felt she was being tattooed across in kisses. When she could no longer stand the suspense, she turned her head, forcing him to meet her lips.

Their kisses were slow and delicate at first. Loki held her as though she was a china doll he was afraid might break at any moment. After a while their kissing became quicker and more passionate. Cecelia ran her hands along his back, pulling him closer to her, wanting to hold him as close to her as possible.

Their lips were glued together, moving in perfect sync. Cecelia could feel their combined energies pooling around them, connecting them as if by magic.

Loki gasped as he pulled away for a second, but Cecelia did not want him to leave that quickly. After he caught his breath she quickly pulled him down on top of her again, wanting him not to leave her. His hands cupped her face as he gently turned her head towards his and continued kissing her. Cecelia wished she could stay in the moment forever.

"Oh Cela," moaned Loki as the broke contact for a second between kisses. "I think I'm in love with you, Cela."

Cecelia gasped and pulled away, peering at Loki in the morning sunlight.

"What did you say?" she gasped, her breath short.

"I said I loved you," said Loki, with the utmost sincerity. "I've loved you since that day in the forest. And more every time since. I know it seems a little sudden, but I also know it is true. You are so spontaneous and adventurous and so many other things. I love everything about you, and I love you."

Loki leaned in after his speech, reaching for another kiss, but Cecelia pushed him away.

Loki opened his eyes, hurt evident on his features.

"Are you crazy?" she asked, shoving him off of her.

"What? What is the matter?"

"You have got to be kidding me, you can't love me, and we've only met for four days!"

Loki laughed. "But I do not need very long I suppose, to fall in love." His joy faded to sadness. "Don't you love me?"

"No, I do not," said Cecelia firmly, though her heart was screaming otherwise. "And you don't love me." She pushed herself away from him and got off the bed.

"Of course I do!" exclaimed Loki, hurrying after her. "Of course I do Cela!"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" yelled Cecelia angrily, turning to face him. Loki jumped back at her tone. He was confused.

"What? Your name? Why shouldn't I call you that?"

"Because it is the name of a girl you think you love when you are wrong," snapped Cecelia meanly. Her heart was breaking at her words, at Loki's face. She wanted to stop hurting him, but there was nothing to be done; he was falling in love with someone who wasn't her. She had tricked him into loving a fake. It needed to stop.

Cecelia took a deep breath. She wiped her face with her hand; it felt hot and sticky from tense sweat and left-over makeup.

"You—you have freckles," said Loki suddenly, peering at her cheek.

Looking down at her hand in horror, Cecelia saw she had accidently wiped off some of her concealer.

"How much makeup are you wearing?" asked Loki.

Darn. She needed to get out of here fast, before he got a good look at her exposed face. She needed to end this.

"You don't know a lot about the real me," she said in a scarily even tone.

"But I want to!" cried Loki, and she was shocked to see he was near tears. He reached for her hand but she pulled it away. "Please, I want to know everything about you! I know that I love you; it only grows the more time we spend together! Please, let me get to know the real you!"

"You have already met the real me!" yelled Cecelia, frustrated. "And you didn't like what you saw."

Loki looked confused and hurt. She could see he had no idea what she was talking about, but she did not want to explain. If he loved her as much as he claimed to he would have realized who she really was.

"You don't love the real me, and you never could. That is why I cannot bring myself to love you in return. I am sorry, but I am afraid I can never see you again."

Cecelia turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

"NO!" cried Loki after her. "Please, come back!"

He rushed after her, but Cecelia was too fast. She ducked into the nearest servant's door and hid herself among the maze hidden within the castle.

She could hear Loki calling for her, but she didn't stop running. She felt tears streaming down her face, and she brushed them away roughly. Her heart felt as though it was being torn in half. She felt horrible for what she had said to Loki. It had been hard, but it had needed to be done. She could not let him think he loved a girl that did not exist. It would only lead to disappointment once he found out who she really was. This whole plan had been a mistake.

Dashing down Astiror's hall, she pulled open the door and dashed inside without looking around.

The door slammed shut behind her.

"Well, look who has decided to return from their night escapade," said a cold voice.

Cecelia turned around, and through her blurry vision, came face to face with her stepmother.

Edel was wearing a wicked smile. "I told you our little servant rat was getting a bit above her pay grade," laughed Edel to someone behind her.

Astiror walked out behind her mother. "And I suppose you were quite right. I never would have guessed such an awful thing would gather anyone's attention."

Cecelia stood there silently, too hurt to think of anything to say.

"I suppose you were too busy with your prince to hear our carriages pull up," said Edel, taking a threatening step forward. "Although how you managed to keep his attention so long really baffles me. There is nothing special about you in the least."

"How…?

"How did I know?" Edel finished. Cecelia nodded. "Dear, I have many ways of getting information. You need not tell me, your dress confirms it. You were the girl who caught Loki's attention the night of the ball, were you not?"

Cecelia felt helpless. All she could do was nod.

"I knew it," said Edel smugly. "I knew you were up to something that night. Something has been off about you ever since we got to this castle; you seemed to be even lazier and more distracted then usual."

"What do you want, Edel?" snapped Cecelia suddenly. Anger was boiling beneath the surface of her weakness and pain. She had been caught, and she knew it. She didn't know why Edel was dragging it out so long. Why didn't she just have her revenge and get it over with? What was her stepmother to gain from taunting her?

Edel's face turned a nasty shade of grey. "What I want," she whispered dangerously low. "Is of my concern. That is a plan long in the making that I do not have the time or care to explain to you."

Cecelia was utterly confused. As confused, she thought, as Loki had probably been when she'd turned on him so suddenly. She could feel more tears threatening to come with the thought of him.

"But for now, I will settle for your information. And my daughter wedding who is soon to be the most powerful man in the kingdom."

Astrior looked up in surprise. "Me? What? But Thor…"

"Oh no silly girl, Thor couldn't care about you in slightest, can't you see that?"

Astrior looked shocked, but she nodded solemnly. Even though the girl barely had two brain cells, even she could recognize the prince was not interested in her attempts.

"I was worried this might happen," said Edel, turning back to Cecelia. "Worried what might occur if my plan did not work out. If Thor did not fall for my daughter; the girl I had trained and plucked so perfectly to be the desire of any man in the land. But then, my darling Cecelia here, had to go behind my back and assure that everything was all right. Everything would work out. Such a dear, you didn't even know how much you were helping me, were you?"

Cecelia was now utterly shocked and completely out of it. "What do you mean?" She croaked. "I've done nothing to help you. Just like you've never tried to help me in my life."

"Tsk Tsk," tsked Edel. "Don't let your temper get away from you, lest you forget how much I helped you after your dear old father passed away. How much I took you under my wing then."

Cecelia let out a burst of laughter at that, but Edel ignored her as she turned back to Astiror.

"My daughter, don't you see? Our plan was for you to marry Thor, sure, but that is obviously not working. Now, you can take Cecelia's place, and marry Loki instead. Not a perfect arrangement I'll admit, but we'll make it work. You'll still have plenty of power and position to get a lot of things done around here."

Astiror and Cecelia had never agreed on anything in their lives, but it seemed in that moment that they could both agree Edel was crazy.

"What? Astrior pretend to be me?" snapped Cecelia, laughing heartily now at the thought of Astiror in a blonde wig, trying to dance her way through the forest with the prince. "She would never be able to pull it off. She looks nothing like me. It's almost as though we aren't really sisters." Cecelia smirked.

Edel only smiled. Then she lifted her hands. "Why of course, I forgot you didn't know."

And suddenly the room was filled with a golden light. The light first surrounded Cecelia, then left and wrapped around Astiror instead. When the light faded, Cecelia found herself staring at her twin.

"What?" she gasped, taking a step back and staring at her stepmother in horror. "You're a-a—"

"An enchantress?" finished Edel, smiling. "Why yes, I am. How astute of you to notice."

Astiror, meanwhile, was examining her appearance in the mirror.

"How did I never know…?" asked Cecelia, in shock.

"Well because I never saw fit to tell you, I suppose," laughed Edel, her cruel voice raising the hairs on Cecelia's arms.

"It still won't work," said Cecelia defiantly. "I told him things. About me. I told him my parents were dead—"

"Oh, so that's the story we're going with now then, is it?" Edel clapped her hands together delightedly. "Did you hear that, Astiror? Your parents are dead now. Both of them. You will tell the prince Igor and I adopted you, the poor orphaned friend of my beloved daughter, who unfortunately had to return to our home this week because she felt ill of being in the castle. Of course you came to visit her and at the ball, where you met and fell in love with Loki. Igor would never leave one of his fellow noblemen's daughters to fend for herself."

Cecelia's head was reeling with the new information she was taking in. If she hadn't seen it all for herself, if an exact copy of herself wasn't standing before her, she never would have believed it all.

Astiror paused in pushing her hair back. "I look different," she commented.

"Well of course you do, are you dumb, girl? I have enchanted you to look like Cecelia, the girl Loki fell for."

"I mean, I look different then I did at the ball. That girl didn't have freckles. Or eyes as bright."

Edel spun to face Cecelia. She peered intently at her makeup. "Well of course, you hid your identity quite well with all that makeup. You always had such a flair for it. I must say you could rival my magic at times." Edel turned back to her daughter. "Do not worry, Astrior. I will make you the spitting image of the girl Loki fell in love with. You will become—" Edel turned to Cecelia. "What name did you give him?" She barked.

"C-Cela," gulped Cecelia before she could think.

"Pitiful attempt to hide your poor identity, but fine." Edel turned back to Astrior. "You will become Cela. Cecelia will tell you all she has told the prince, whatever cock-and-bull story she cooked up to get him so hooked on her. You will go to him tomorrow, admit who you are, and marry the second prince of Asgard."

"She will not!" claimed Cecelia, drawing herself up in indignation. Edel turned slowly to face her. Her face was dangerously calm. "I will not help you trick Loki into marrying your filthy, stupid daughter, Edel, I won't do it. I won't tell you anything."

Edel smiled deeply. She walked carefully to Cecelia until their faces were inches apart. When she spoke, it was with an unearthly chill in her voice.

"I am a more powerful enchantress then you can ever fathom," she said. "I have done more terrible things then you could imagine. Have you ever wondered why your father fell for me so quickly? Surely you have realized I wasn't really the old fools' type. Same with Igor. Have you ever wondered why your father's heart gave out so suddenly? With some unknown illness no doctor could diagnose?"

Cecelia felt her knees weaken. Her father's death? Could Edel's magic have really been behind it the whole time? Edel's face was answer enough.

"There was a time when he was the one person you cared most about. And I took him from you. Now there is someone new you care about. I can take him just as easily. It will slow down my plans, to be sure, if I had to kill Loki of Asgard. But I would do it. My magic might work better on my own matches, but I could enchant Thor to fall for Astrior if I really worked for it. This just seems to work better in my favor. But I warn you, if you do not comply, do not do everything you can to make Astiror successful, as you always promised you would," Edel's smile encompassed her entire face now, a wide grin of malicious evil. "Then I will kill your beloved Loki."

Cecelia quaked under her stepmother's glare. With a final freezing stare, Edel turned back to her daughter.

"But, mother?" asked Astrior. Cecelia looked up to Astrior in desperation. Surly she could not stand by and let this happen.

"What is it?" snapped Edel.

"Mother, I want Thor. I want to be Thor's wife, please. I can't pretend to be Cecelia, Thor will notice I am missing." Astrior looked near to tears.

"Are you really that stupid? Surly you cannot believe Thor will notice anything. He has not given you the slightest thought the time you have been here, I doubt he knows your name."

Astrior turned back to the mirror, silent tears running down her—down Cecelia's—face.

"We will make this work," said Edel forcefully, to herself or to them, Cecelia couldn't be sure. "On Odin's life, we will make this work."

Cecelia could hardly believe she had awoke that morning feeling so safe and happy in Loki's arms.

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A/N-Oh no! Things are getting bad...Keep reading and reviewing! Hearing what you guys have to say about updates keeps me writing! Thank-you for all of your support! :)


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N- Warning, this chapter is a little bit darker, high T for attempted suicide, just a heads up.**

Cela crouched before the king as she explained her story.

"I am afraid I did not go about announcing my identity the right way," she admitted solemnly as she bowed low to the king. She looked up and focused on Loki. "But I do love you, my prince. When I heard about your announcement, I rushed right over. I needed to see you again. I swear that I love you."

"You did not seem so sure yesterday," said Loki, a tone of hurt in his voice. "In my—well, when I said I cared for you. You yelled I did not know you and rushed out."

The entire royal congregation turned to the young girl, waiting to hear her answer.

Cela bowed lower still. "I am sorry, my Lord. I was scared. I did not recognize the feelings I had, was worried we were moving to fast, and I had no other excuse or way to react." Cela stood up straight then, and her next words showed her to be near to tears. "But I love you so much, care for you in so many ways. Please forgive me for my outburst, I cannot imagine living without you."

Loki rose slowly from his chair, and walked until he had reached Cela.

"If you love me as I love you," he said slowly. "Then let us prepare for a wedding!"

Everyone cheered. Loki bowed low and pulled out a golden ring, which Cela accepted happily. Then he clasped her tight in his arms and kissed her.

Odin laughed happily. "Young love!" he cried over the cheers and clapping of his wife and Thor. "Young love is always so beautiful."

Cecelia could hardly stand to watch, but she could not turn away. She was begging Loki with her eyes to see her; to notice something was off. She could not tell him herself, Edel had threatened his life if she made any call to him. But if he figured it out on his own-

Loki glanced up, and their eyes met. Cecelia felt her heart quiver. But then he only smiled at her and returned to hugging his bride to be. Cecelia's heart seemed to die in her chest. He did not recognize her. Especially not with the new hair and nose her stepmother had given her. 'Just to be safe' as she had put it. Now, with her smaller nose, and short, chopped red hair, she looked even less like the girl Loki loved. The God of Mischief was being tricked, and she had no idea how to help him.

From across the room, Cecelia saw Edel staring at her intently. She bowed her head to show she was not trying anything.

Edel had threatened Loki's life. She knew how much Cecelia cared about him, and she was more then ready to use the for her advantage. Cecelia could not give her a reason to harm the prince she loved so much.

She was still trying to get over the fact that her father's sudden illness had been Edel's doing.

She caught sight of Lord Igor in the crowd, and she wondered if he had any inkling that he was being duped. She did not know what kind of spells Edel had placed on herself to make the Lord fall in love with her, but as she watched him discuss things with the other royal advisors, head bent low, scratching his small beard in a perfectly ordinary manner, she doubted he had any idea.

She and Astrior, seemed to be the only ones to know Edel's secret. And neither of them were in any rush to spread the word.

"I'm so sorry I rushed out on you like that," murmured Astrior, in her Cela disguise. "I just did not know how to feel when you told me you loved me so suddenly."

Cecelia was near enough to hear the couple speaking to each other over the rumble of conversation in the room.

"I shocked even myself," said Loki, with his all-to familiar laugh. "And you were right about me not knowing everything about you. I thought freckles were big news; here I find out you were adopted by Lord Igor!"

Astir smiled. The perfectly conjured freckles Edel had placed across her cheeks shone against her flawless skin. Edel had questioned Cecelia for every bit of information about her and prince's relationship, and Cecelia had feared for Loki's safety too much to defy her. Now, Astir was perfectly well rehearsed in everything she needed to say to keep the prince's heart that Cecelia had won for her.

"I'm just so happy that now we get to dance together forever," whispered Astiror.

"Me too," said Loki, and cupping her face again, the two kissed deeply.

Cecelia could not take another second of it. Slipping, unnoticed, out of the room, she ran silently until she found herself in the laundry room.

Without thinking, she flung herself into the wash pool, sinking deep under the soapy water.

The water felt warm, like it was trying to comfort her.

 _NO!_ She thought. _Don't comfort me! I don't deserve it!_

She forced her eyes open so she could feel the sting of the soap in her eyes.

 _Just drown me! Please I want to drown!_

She suddenly felt strong arms around her waist that pulled her up through the water, then flung her onto the marbled floor.

"NO!" she yelled, not caring to see who her savior was. She flung herself back at the water, but someone held her back. "LET GO OF ME! Please! I just want it to end."

"I'm afraid I can't let that happen," said a deep voice. "My girlfriend would kill me."

Cecelia stopped thrashing and hung limp. She turned her head far enough to see who was holding her. "Damian?" she asked weakly.

"The one and only," he smiled at her sadly, as though wanting to comfort her but not knowing how.

"Damian, please, set her down."

Cecelia recognized her friend's voice from across the room.

Damian carried her and set her down in Frija's arms.

"Cecelia, please. What's wrong with you? What happened to your hair?"

Cecelia buried herself in her friend's embrace and began to cry. Perhaps it was the soap in her eyes, or simply all of the sadness she had ever felt about her father, and now Loki, finally boiling over. But for some inexplicable reason, Cecelia was able to cry for hours that night.

Frija held her tightly while Damian watched, silent. Cecelia could not stop crying until very late.

Then, exhausted, she finally whispered "thank-you" and fell asleep in Frija's arms.

* * *

 **A/N-Well, that chapter got dark...this was not where I was originally planning to go with it, but I was writing it and the drama just sort of got out of hand then I decided to keep it. I hope you guys won't let this deter you from reading the rest of the story though! I know things are looking bad but I'm sure they'll get better for our heronie soon!**


	16. Chapter 16

The arrangements for the Royal Engagement party commenced immediately.

Thousands of flowers were ordered to decorate the grand hall. Menu items were being tested out hourly by the palace's chefs. The whole kingdom seemed to be aflutter with the news. Although Loki was the younger and far less liked prince, especially when compared to his stronger, more handsome brother, his engagement was still cause for great gossip and celebration throughout the land. And no one was celebrating more then Loki himself and his bride to be. Unfortunately, happy chance and busy arrangements kept the two so caught up in their schedules that they had very little time alone together, although that was all sure to change once their engagement was made official across the land and plans for their wedding could start being made.

Everyone seemed happy, or at least somewhat excited by the news. Everyone except a few servants of the royal palace. Though no one paid them much notice, if anyone had been paying attention, they would have seen that Damian, Frija, and Cecelia were not excited in the least by the news of the prince's engagement.

Cecelia had not been able to tell Frija the whole story, due to her promise to Edel. Frija knew enough, however, to know that the prince was now marrying someone, someone who was not her friend Cecelia.

Frija tried to cheer her friend up, but there seemed little she could do. Cecelia seemed desperately lost and upset, but Frija had no idea how to help her. Cecelia assured her that she was grateful to Frija anyway, and that there really was nothing she could do.

She had asked her friend, however, how she still recognized her. Cecelia was curious to know how Frija could still see who she was even with her new disguise.

"Well when you first burst into the room, I had no idea," admitted Frija. "Some girl with red hair just dashed into the laundry room and plunged into the pool! Damian and I were off to the side doing—well, that's not important-but when we saw what happened, he jumped in right away and pulled you out. I didn't realize who it was until later."

"But how?" asked Cecelia desperately. "How did you know who I was? Even though I look so different?"

Frija cocked her head and observed Cecelia in deep concentration. "I don't know how exactly," she said slowly. "I just, knew. I think it must have been your eyes. Such bright eyes, I haven't seen kind like those in awhile. I don't know what that witch of a stepmother did to you, whatever it was, she didn't change who you are. I can still see you under there, I just have to look a little closer."

Cecelia felt comforted that her friend was able to see her still, and she was ashamed about her breakdown in the laundry room. She was so happy Damian and Frija had been there, otherwise she didn't know what would have happened.

She knew she couldn't have drowned though, that would have been too easy. She would have had to pull herself out if it was the last thing she did, because she needed to do all she could to help Astrior through this. If everything didn't go perfectly, then Edel would carry out her threat against Loki, and Cecelia could have never lived with herself knowing Loki had been harmed because of her.

Which was why, on the night of the Royal Engagement, Cecelia did her best to make Astiror the best Cela she could be.

Edel's magic allowed Astrior to forgo the large amounts of makeup Cecelia had used to change her appearance into Cela. Edel had dulled Astrior's eyes to a tinted blue, smoothed her skin with a light dapple of freckles, and contoured her cheekbones already. Her lips were the deep red Cecelia always achieved with stain, so there was really nothing she needed to do to her makeup to get ready.

Cecelia helped her into her gown, a light peach number which Cecelia could really see herself wearing. The lightness of the gown would have made it easy to, say, dance through the woods with a mysterious partner. Cecelia caught herself imagining Astrior, now Cela, dancing through the forest stream with Loki. Somehow the image did not seem right, even if it was what now would be the truth.

Cecelia pushed those thoughts out of her mind and focused on getting Astrior-Cela ready. She did not like tricking Loki, but it was for his own good. He might not be able to live his life with the one he loved, but he would at least be alive.

"Are you ready, daughter?" asked Edel as she flounced into the room. She was wearing a bold gown in the deepest shade of burgundy that could be found. Cecelia liked to imagine the red Edel always wore symbolized the blood she now knew was on her hands. Blood that included her father and many more, she was sure.

Astir seemed too nervous to answer, so Edel snapped towards Cecelia instead.

"Is she ready, girl?" she barked, glaring.

"I have done all I can to take this pitiful goat of a daughter and turn her into an elegant noblewomen fit to be your plaything." retorted Cecelia in a furious voice.

'SMACK!'

Cecelia cried out and clutched her face where Edel had struck her.

"Teach you to mind your manners more in the future, I hope." said Edel smugly.

"I highly doubt it," muttered Cecelia furiously. She was being forced to help her, but that did not mean she had to be happy or respectful about it. She had found a voice to speak out at last, and even if she could only use it to say what she really thought about horrible Edel and her daughter in private for the rest of her life, she was going to be sure she used it.

Edel turned back to her daughter.

"Remember to do me proud tonight, Astrior. If all goes well you'll be on the throne soon, or at least closer to it. Do not fail me after I've put so much effort into this plan."

Astrior-Cela gulped and nodded silently. Cecelia found it odd to see the look of obedience and fear etched onto her own face. Astrior had never worn such a look in all the time Cecelia knew her, but she assumed her own face had shinned that look many times during her servitude to Edel.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Cela? It's Loki. Are you ready to head down to the feast?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Astrior-Cela excitedly. "I am almost ready, just give me a minute!"

She danced off the platform she had been observing herself on before the mirror and hurried to open the door.

Cecelia had to admit, Astrior was a fantastic actress. She might not have been very smart on her own, but give her some information and a role, and she could play it impeccably. She had managed to keep up this façade far better then Cecelia thought she would, and it truly seemed as though Loki noticed no difference.

Astiror opened the door to show Loki, smartly dressed in a black tunic and green dress shirt. He handed her a bouquet of white flowers.

"Gardenias!" exclaimed Astir, holding them to her nose and breathing in deeply.

"I thought you might like them," said Loki, smiling at her.

"They are wonderful," cooed Astrior, leaning in and pecking him quickly on the cheek.

"Thank-you Loki, you have made my adopted daughter very happy," said Edel, moving forward to take the flowers from Astrior. "I will put these in some water straight away. Catharine!"

Cecelia hurried forward as Edel motioned for her; using another fake name she had concocted to keep Cecelia's true identity secret.

"Put these in some water, won't you?"

"What happened to your old handmaid, Cecelia?" asked Loki, looking at her in interest.

Cecelia felt her heart soar. He had remembered her! It was not much, considering the conditions, but it made her happy to think he still thought of one of her disguises he had known.

"Cecelia?" asked Edel, sounding a little flustered. "Why, she left with Astrior of course, back to help her home once she started feeling ill. Astrior really did not seem to fit in with palace life, after all. Missed the countryside."

"I see," said Loki, still watching Cecelia intently. She was beginning to feel nervous. If he suspected anything…

"Why?" asked Edel suddenly, clearly catching on that something was off. "Did you know Cecelia well?"

"Hmm?" asked Loki, breaking his gaze with Cecelia at last. "Oh, no. Not very well. We talked a few times, and she was the one who actually convinced me I should work hard to look for you," he added, turning his gaze back onto Astrior -Cela.

"Oh," crowned Astrior -Cela. "That was so good of her, to encourage you."

Cecelia could see her step-sister was at a loss for things to say in this situation.

Edel came to her rescue, shooing the two out of the room.

"Go! You two cannot be late to your own engagement party, after all. I will be down shortly. Have fun!"

Cecelia sighed deeply when Loki and Astrior -Cela were out of sight, looking sadly upon the flowers Loki had brought for Cela. She wished with all her might she could transport herself back to the gardens to that magical day when she had felt like the happiest person in the world. It seemed to have happened years ago when it was really only last week.

"So," said Edel, turning to face Cecelia. "He knows about Cecelia."

"Well, I met him a few times while I was being sent on errands like your serving dog," said Cecelia crudely. She was really too worn emotionally to come up with better comebacks. Edel scoffed.

"Well, I think it best after all if you not come to the celebrations."

"What?" gasped Cecelia. She had been counting on coming as Cela's handmaiden. Even if she was not going to be the one Loki was getting engaged to, she felt like she needed to be there, to make sure Edel kept her promise.

"No, I think this will be hard enough on our prince as it is, let's not make things complicated, shall we?"

Edel drew a key from her pocket ad left, slamming the door behind her.

"No, Please!" yelled Cecelia, running to the door and banging her fists upon in. "Please, let me at least come! I need to at least see him! You cannot do this!"

She began to cry and pull on the door, but Edel had locked it from the outside and taken the only key with her. She was certainty not going to let Cecelia out.

"Please," whispered Cecelia before she collapsed on the floor against the door.

Alone, Cecelia cried against the door, not knowing what to do. If only she could somehow stop Loki, somehow warn him. But Edel had promised his death if she tried to contact him. And now that she was locked in Astiror's rooms, there was really nothing she could do.

* * *

A/N **-I told you things would get worse for Cecelia! But don't worry, there's going to be some action in the next chapters and then maybe Cece will get her happy ending afterall! I know it doesn't seem like it now, but let's try to stay positive and think about the future, shall we? Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, drop me a review to let me know what you think! And have a fantastic upcoming weekend!**


	17. Chapter 17

The palace was alight. Everyone was dancing and enjoying themselves, waiting for the prince's announcement that would seal his engagement to the lovely mysterious woman who had captured his heart.

Up in her rooms, Cecelia suddenly jerked into a sitting position. She had cried all her tears against the wall, but for some reason she could not settle back. She could not bring herself to collapse in bed and bemoan her state of affairs, as she was sure she should.

Carriages were arriving outside; she could hear the horses hooves crunching through the gates.

She needed to get out of this room, she needed to warn Loki. Something in her mind was making her feel alarmingly alert and irrational. She had never been very lucid when it came to things regarding Loki, but now she seemed particularly unbalanced.

She suddenly did not care what Edel threatened, whatever power she claimed to have. Cecelia knew she needed to be there with Loki, she needed to warn him. She did not care if it led to her never being with him, she needed to try to stop him before it was too late. She was sure something in Edel's magic would seal the merger after he made his announcement tonight.

Rushing up to Astrior's makeup desk, Cecelia dug through the drawers until she found what she was looking for. Then she dashed back to the door, falling to her knees by the lock. She held up the two black, straight-backed hairpins she had relived from Astrior's drawers. Carefully, she bent them to the right shape, and inserted them into the locks.

She had learned to pick locks soon after her father's death. It had been a useful skill to get her around her own house once she was no longer welcome there. She used to use it to sneak bits of food from the pantry, or to slip outside for nighttime excursions when her stepmother had forbidden her to leave the house.

Now, it served a greater purpose.

Cecelia's hands were shaking so badly she did not get the lock right away. She had to take several steadying breaths before she managed to find the right combination to unlock the door. In her haste to get down the party, Edel had not sealed the door with magic. No doubt she had assumed Cecelia would be too heartbroken to try to escape.

Pride had never failed anyone so much as it did Edel.

With a 'click,' Cecelia felt her prison release.

Without a look back, Cecelia threw open the door and dashed down the hall towards the main ballroom, where she had danced with Loki herself all those weeks ago.

People were entering the main entrance. The last of them were making their way into the ballroom. She could hear laughter and talk and music issuing throughout the halls.

A viselike grip of fear was tightening around her chest. She could not seem to draw breath. She felt as though she was under water, and her feet were running in syrup. She needed to get to the ballroom before Loki's announcement. She needed to stop this madness of Edel's, somehow.

A shadow was approaching Cecelia from the opposite hall.

"What are you doing?" hissed Frija as she caught up, keeping pace beside Cecelia as she ran through the palace halls.

"I'm going to stop Loki's engagement," panted Cecelia determinedly.

"What? You're just going to burst into the hall and what, yell for them to stop? Are you crazy?"

Cecelia laughed, realizing how much crazier she would seem if Frija knew the whole truth. "Perhaps I am. You always said I should be more like you, didn't you?"

Frija tried to pull her back, but Cecelia was too fast for her. "Let's just think about this for a second!" yelled Frija desperately.

But the time for thinking had far passed. Cecelia had thrown conscious thought out the window when it came to dealing with Loki. The time was for action.

Frija fell behind as Cecelia dashed through the halls.

It was like stepping back in time. As she approached the main doors, she saw that they were closed. Golden light and musical laughter stemmed from around the crack between the doors.

Two guards stood outside the doors. But unlike at the ball, they did not open the doors for her. Rather, they drew closer to her as she approached.

She supposed her looks did not warrant her entrance into the ball this time.

"Who are you?" called one of the guards when she was in earshot.

Cecelia did not stop running. She felt as though something really bad would happen if she did stop.

Inside the doors, she heard the music stop.

"My son has an announcement to make!" King Odin's booming voice echoed loudly, even through the golden doors.

"Hey, stop!" yelled one of the guards, making a grab for her.

But Cecelia was too quick. Ducking under his outstretched arm, Cecelia dodged the second guard and pushed the doors open herself.

The hall fell silent. But not with the surprised, curious silence it had greeted her with on her last arrival. This silence was much more threatening, filled with tense anticipation.

Everyone had been watching the king, and Loki, who was clutching his beloved.

"No!" yelled Cecelia. Everyone turned to look where the voice had come from. All of the eyes were upon her in an instant. Everything fell still.

Edel hurried through the crowd, shouting hurried apologies to the Allfather.

"Catherine, my new handmaiden…doesn't really know how to deal in these situations, so sorry." She rushed to Cecelia inhumanly fast, a terrifying look of death upon her face. "What are you doing?" she shouted in a frightening voice. No one around her seemed to hear it besides Cecelia. Cecelia had a feeling the words were magically meant for her ears alone.

"The right thing," she hissed to her stepmother. Not having the power to direct her words in such a way, they were overheard by those closest to her. The Lords and Noblewomen looked among themselves in curiosity.

Edel made a grab for her, but her speed gifted her again, as it seemed to be doing quite a lot that evening.

Cecelia dashed around her stepmother and set her eyes on the prince, keeping only him in focus.

"Loki!" she yelled as she ran. "Loki, it's not her. You have to believe me, it's a trick—"

She stopped mid-sentence. She was only inches from him when the room shook with an electrifying feeling. The wave hit them all, but she, Loki, and Astrior seemed to be the only ones affected. Cecelia was thrown to the ground by whatever it was. By the time she opened her eyes, she knew something was off.

Everyone was frozen. All of the women of court, the guards, and the Nobles. They stood with looks of shocked terror etched on their faces, completely unmoving. Something was keeping them locked in time.

The only ones who seemed to be able to move independently of it were she, Loki, Astir, and the Allfather.

Odin raised himself from his chair with forced dignity. He was clearly unnerved by what was happening in the hall, staring at horror at someone behind Cecelia.

"How, what..." he gasped, seemingly unable to speak clearly.

Cecelia spun around, and gasped.

Edel was transforming. Her pudgy figure grew tall and sleek. Her body was suddenly a force of pure strength, an image of power that properly fit the evil Cecelia had come to compare her with.

She was no longer wearing her red dress, switching it instead for a black cat suit, lined with green. On her head was an elaborate hairdress of black long thrones, which rather made her look like an upright, discolored deer.

"Hela," gasped Odin in a terrified voice.

"Hello father," hissed the woman, as she made her way threateningly towards the throne.

When she reached Cecelia, who was still sprawled on the ground, she looked down pityingly.

"It was going to be so simple," she crooned in a sickly voice. "Then you had to go and try to mess it up. Well, you must know the consequences for that."

"Guards!" yelled Odin, making his way down from his throne.

"Oh, there is no need for that, really," said Hela, laughing. "You must realize they have been frozen with the rest. All of them. No one can come to your rescue now, not even your beloved Thor."

Cecelia looked and saw Thor next to his mother, both frozen in inanimate terror.

She did know what was going on, she did not know who Hela was, or what her trouble was with Odin, or why she had chosen such an ugly contraption as her headpiece. But she did know that Loki was in danger. She needed to get him out of there. She slowly raised herself to her feet while Hela was distracted with Odin.

"It has been awhile father," said Hela, ignoring those around her as she made her way to the king. "I love what you've done with the place, put the gold we stole and murdered for to good decoration purposes."

"You were supposed to be exiled."

"And yes, I am afraid your magic is not quite as powerful as you hoped. I was able to break it years ago and return. I could have tried to take the throne back at any time, but I really didn't fancy my chances against the entire Asgardian army, and quite frankly, I wanted you to suffer first."

"What do you mean by storming in here and attacking our home?" asked Loki, as he held Astrior close to him. She looked terrified as she peered upon her mother. Cecelia had to wonder if Astrior had ever been aware how powerful her mother's magic was, if she had ever seen her true form before.

Hela considered Loki for a moment before answering. "I suppose you have never been taught our history, then. And you will not know the past I built with our father. But I am here now to take back what is rightfully mine. Even if I need to kill every person in the whole wretched palace to do it, I will be successful."

"You will never get that far," claimed Odin.

"I don't know who you are," warned Loki. "But I will fight with my father to defend our kingdom from you."

Hela scoffed. "Protect it from me? When you're already dead?" she questioned. Then, fast as an arrow, she lashed out. Cecelia barely had time to cry a warning before Hela's magic formed a dark sword, aimed right towards Loki.

"No!" cried Odin, throwing his sword to knock Hela's out of its path.

Hela laughed again. A cold, hard laugh that reflected off the walls of the hall and bounced its way through the room, seeming to vibrate in the very floors of the palace.

"So it is father and son against daughter, is it? Very well, you will both lose much before this is over."

"Mother, please," cried Astrior, coming forward.

Cecelia, who had been edging her way to Loki, stopped in shock to watch the shaking form of herself walk forward to confront Hela.

"Mother please, don't do this. Don't cause so much pain. Your plans have always been so extensive, but you've never killed anyone. Don't make me marry a man I do not love and kill another for your revenge."

Cecelia's breaths were slow and tense as Hela regarded her daughter. Edel had always seemed so attached to her, would her words make Edel, or Hela, whoever it was, stop? Would she end this?

Without warning, Hela shot another sword, this time aimed for her daughter. The sword hit her right in the chest, knocking her back to the ground.

With a small gasp of surprise, Astrior fell over.

"NO!" Yelled Cecelia. If Hela was heartless enough to kill her own daughter, was there any way to end her cruelty?

"Foolish girl, I have killed more then you can imagine," croaked Hela to her gasping daughter. Astrior shook violently on the floor, and blood pooled around her. Loki screamed in agony.

He made to reach her, but Cecelia got there first.

"Use your magic," she snapped, peering at the prince. "On Hela."

Loki looked hurt and confused. He seemed disoriented; the sight of Cela's dying body seemed to be too much for him to keep a straight head.

"Listen to me," said Cecelia, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look her in the eyes. "The only way you can help her is to defeat Hela. Her magic is what's killing her. If you want to save her, fight."

"My sedir is no where near powerful enough," croaked Loki, tears forming in his eyes as he gaped at the blood pouring out of Cela.

"It is, Loki. I've seen you use your magic before, I've heard of it's power. Use it now, or all is lost."

Loki swallowed quickly, and nodded once. Raising himself, he turned to face Hela.

A flash of green illuminated the hall, and Hela ducked Loki's blast. Hela sent another sword aimed for his chest, but he nimbly ducked it and blasted her with more magic.

Cecelia turned away from the fight and rushed to Astrior's side. She was losing a lot of blood, and Cecelia quickly tried to stem the flow with her own meager dress.

"Hold on, please," she whispered to the quickly fading girl. She had never been particularly fond of the girl, but she didn't want her to die. "Hurry Loki," she urged under her breath.

It was a wonderful display of magic. Loki and Odin fought and ducked together, while Hela shot them with as many blasts and black knives as she could create.

It was a captivating battle until one particular well-aimed blast by Loki hit Hela squarely in the chest. Hela took a step back in surprise, and seemed to lose her breath for an instant.

Cecelia noticed life seemed to be returning to the hall. A few people seemed to be breathing, moving again, slightly.

Cecelia turned back to Astrior to see her hair returning to its dark state, her face resuming its original look. Hela's strength was waning, and with it, her magic.

The threat on his loved one's life seemed to fuel Loki more then anything else could. He fought to protect his father and kingdom with a power none had ever seen him wield before.

Bit by bit, Hela's power waned until her spell upon the hall was broken with a particularly nasty blow.

A static feeling rocked the hall, and everyone came alive again. More guards rushed to help constrain Hela, and Thor ran to his brother's side to help the fight.

Cecelia felt her hair growing, could see it lengthening to her shoulders again.

The knife in Astrior's chest vanished. Her body seemed to heal magically before her eyes, and she coughed herself awake.

"Astrior!" chimed Cecelia happily, in a happier voice then she had ever addressed her stepsister before.

"Cecelia?" asked Astrior slowly. "What-What happened?"

Cecelia looked at her stepsister sadly. No doubt this would be a lot of information to get used to. Cecelia could hardly imagine it.

The scene in the hall was mayhem. People were yelling, and Hela was shouting threats as she was being constrained by the guards and king. Frigga seemed to be adding her magic to the fight, and Hela was quickly finding herself outnumbered by strength and numbers.

In the mess, Cecelia caught Loki breaking away, moving back over to them.

With the realization that the fight was over, Cecelia felt a certain feeling of foreboding returning to her. She was drenched in her tears and Astrior's blood. She was soaked through with the feeling of manipulation and mistrust Edel had drenched her in.

Cecelia did not think she could stand time with Loki tonight. She did not know how he would react to everything, and she could not stand the hardship of his ignorance after tonight.

After making sure Astrior was really okay, Cecelia rose and made her way quietly through the crowed to the main doors.

With all the commotion, no one noticed the little servant girl making her way silently out of the hall.

At the last moment Cecelia looked back to see Loki helping Astrior to her feet. He seemed to be talking to her quickly, and Astrior was leaning against him for support as she answered his questions.

Cecelia turned and hurried out of the hall.

She did not know what Astrior would tell him, but she trusted Loki to handle it. Surely he and his father would deal with her fairly; Cecelia doubted they would hold her accountable for the crimes of her mother.

For now, Cecelia really needed to be alone to process it all.

* * *

A/N- It was Hela all along! I wanted to tie the story into the Ragnarok plot a little bit more, so I added her charatcer in. Was that ending shocking? Was it not nearly as shocking as the ending of Infinity Wars? Who saw that? *raises hand* Who is a little bit or more then a bit truamatized by that? *also raises hand*.

Review and tell me what you thought about this change of events! And about the newest Marvel movie that has just topped the boards at the largest movie opening week ever! Whew!


	18. Chapter 18

Cecelia found her sanctuary in the pantries off to the side of the kitchens. No one was in there, as all the food for the ball had already been taken out earlier. Frija had often sneaked into this place and stolen treats for them to munch on as they completed their chores. It was the closest safe place Cecelia could think of to hide.

Leaning against the door wearily, Cecelia tried desperately to make sense of the recent events and figure out what she should do next. Running a hand through her hair, she made her way slowly to the center of the room as she thought.

Edel was really Hela, some evil sorceress hell-bent on killing Odin for some reason. Whatever. At least she did not have to deal with the ramifications of that situation.

No, her problems were much more difficult to sort. Loki now knew that Astrior was not his mysterious love. With Edel's broken magic, he saw the truth. At least he wasn't marrying into a lie anymore.

But he still did not know who she really was. He still was not able to make the connection. Cecelia did not know if she wanted to help him make that connection; if he would be happy once he did. Could he possibly feel for her as much as she did for him? Would he continue those feelings once he realized she was not the Noblewoman Cela she had portrayed herself as?

As Cecelia thought, she moved around the room, creating a flurry of footwork to match the flurry of thoughts in her mind. Her movement was involuntary, a motion to help her think. Practicing her dance had always helped her stay sane in her time stuck under Edel's care.

She was so caught up in her thoughts and her dance at she did not hear the door to the pantry opening; did not realize she was being watched.

"I knew it," said a sly voice. A voice that she would have known anywhere.

Spinning around, Cecelia saw Loki leaning easily against the doorframe. His lean figure was poised elegantly, but his face showed a warring mask of emotions that she could not read.

Nearly as soon as she noticed him he was moving, reaching the center of the small pantry in two long strides.

His face was unreadable, his eyes filled with so much tumult that she could not understand his thoughts.

He was coming towards her fast. Much to fast. She wanted to take a step back, to run and hide from her uncertainty until she had more time to think.

As always, Loki did not allow her the time to think through her actions.

He reached her quickly and grabbed her arms so she could not turn away. She looked up into his stern face and felt an tinting of fear. She could not read his thoughts, did not know how he could react or what he was doing. She was aware of his closeness to her only in the abstracts of her mind.

Without warning, he seized her face roughly with his strong hands, and kissed her forcefully. She could feel his energy around her, easily hear his heartbeat. He clutched her tightly and kissed her as though his life depended on their connection. As though she were his lifeline, and if he loosened his grip even slightly she would flit away and leave him to die.

When he finally let go, Cecelia was out of breath. She had never been kissed in such a way before. Her legs were weak as though she had run a mile and her head swam as though she had been underwater.

Loki dropped to his knees before her, clutching at her hands and gripping them with all his might. When he turned his face towards hers she saw his mask had fallen, leaving a face etched so plainly with regret and sorrow that she could easily read it.

"Cecelia," he croaked, and Cecelia felt the sorrow so plainly in his words as if it were her own. "Cecelia I've been a fool. All this time you were before me and I never recognized you. You were right in what you said, I could never see the real you. I was blinded by what I thought I knew."

"It wasn't your fault," Cecelia tried to interject. "I should have told you who I was."

Loki did not let her finish. He began shaking his head animatedly from the moment she started to speak.

"No, it was I who should have known. Should have seen it. Your makeup cannot hide your beauty; your dresses cannot hide who you are. You are such an incredible person, Cecelia. Your kindness and determination are such pure traits about you, but you hold such a fire within you that makes my heart race. You make me into a better version of myself, with your words of wisdom and your call for adventure. You look at me in a way no one else will."

Loki paused for a moment to steady his breath. He glanced down at the floor of the pantry, and when he looked up again, his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"My heart yearns for you, Cecelia. Not for the noblewoman you thought I wanted when you created your other identity, but for you. The true you, with all your ambition and courage and intelligence. I am so sorry for not seeing it when I should have, for not being more observant. I know I have hurt you. I have cause you pain I fear I can never repair."

Cecelia was near tears herself now. She wanted to tell him it was okay, to pull him to his feet and hold him. To comfort away his tears. But he would not let her.

"I fear it would be hard for you to forgive me," he said, and his voice was horse. "But I beg you to try. To give me a second chance. I want to prove my love to you; to the real you that I have always loved. Please."

Cecelia felt her heart breaking at his pitiful state. "Yes!" she nearly screamed, squeezing his hands tight. "Oh, yes. Loki. Please..." She could not express for him in words her feelings for him. Immediately relief and joy washed over his face, illuminating his curved cheekbones and emerald eyes in happiness.

"Then, if you could, would you consider being my wife?" He asked hopefully, releasing her hand for an instant to reach into his pocket. Pulling out the golden ring Astrior had worn, he presented it to her from his kneeling position, gazing up at her with a wishfully begging expression.

Cecelia could not speak; she could only nod happily as tears of joy ran down her face.

Loki gently slipped the ring onto her finger, where it fit perfectly. He then allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, and caught Cecelia in tight embrace.

"I love you so much, Cecelia," he whispered into her ear. His breath ticked against her skin as he spoke. She hugged him tighter, feeling as though she could not pull him into an embrace close enough.

"I love you too," she murmured, burying her face into his hair. He had it down again, natural and flowing, the way she loved it.

Loki began to sway, leading her into a slow dance around the pantry. Cecelia could no longer find an ounce of strength to think about her situation, her stepmother, or anything. She could only clutch Loki tightly and dance.

Her dress might have been her old brown one soaked in blood, and they might have been dancing alone in a pantry to no music. But Cecelia felt that this was the most special dance that they had shared.

* * *

A/N-Aww! Wasn't that so cute! I had so much fun writing this chapter, and I hope you all had fun reading it! Time to start wraping things in the story up! There's a lot of tearworthy sweet moments in the coming chapters so get ready for that! They'll probably be out sooner now because finals week just finsihed for me so now I am offically on summer break and am super psyched to keep writing for you all! :)


	19. Chapter 19

Cecelia gripped Loki's hand tightly as the guard led them down to the cells.

Prisoners sneered at them from behind golden walls of energy, throwing soundless insults and jeers their way.

The guard, who was short and stout in build with a ruddy face, led them to the end of the long hallway of cells.

At the very end was a cell like all the rest. It had spotless white floor and walls, and sported a bed and chamber pot.

A dark figure lay upon the bed, hidden partially in the sheets.

"I'll wait here with the guard," promised Loki, pausing a few steps away from the cell.

Cecelia wanted to protest, but she knew she could not. This was something she had to do alone.

Smiling at her encouragingly, he felt go of her hand with a final reassuring squeeze.

Cecelia made her way tentatively to the golden wall of the cell. The energy seemed to crackle with anticipation as she grew level with the cell.

Cecelia stopped directly in front of the cell. The figure inside stirred, then looked up. Their eyes met in a mixture of mutual dislike.

Hela laughed. Cecelia could tell the evil sound bounced around the cell, amplified by her hatred, but the sound was muted on her side of the wall.

"So, the lovely traitor has come to visit me in my humble abode," spat Hela. "I suppose I should be grateful for the consideration."

"It is you who were the traitor, Hela," said Cecelia slowly, finding her voice much steadier then she had imagined it would be.

Hela leveled her with a malevolent gaze. Slowly, she raised herself from the bed and made her way threateningly to the wall that separated them. She bent down and fixed Cecelia with her cold stare.

"You dare call me a traitor? You do not know the meaning of the word!" She exclaimed.

"I know you will rot in this cell for the crimes you committed against Asgard, and for breaking your banishment to return," spoke Cecelia levelly. Hela's gaze filled with more hatred, if that was possible.

"You should not speak to me in that tone, not after all I have done for you, you ungrateful girl."

"You have done nothing for me," hissed Cecelia. "You treated be like your slave. You murdered my father. If it were up to me, your punishment would be much worse."

"Your father was a weak soul, he lacked ambition and power. The world will not miss him."

"It is true, he never tried to claw his way above his standing," admitted Cecelia. "He was happy with who and where he was. He was a loving soul that will be missed by many, especially me. Which is more then I can say for you."

Hela's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"After your night in the ballroom," continued Cecelia, keeping her gaze steady with her stepmother's. "I doubt even your own daughter will miss you. Your husband certainly has not; word has it he has already filed the terms for your separation and is moving on with his life."

If Hela was effected by these words, she did not show it. If anything, her gaze turned even colder.

"He was means to an end, they both were. I cannot say I cared about them and I do not except the same from them."

"How did your end work out for you?"

For the first time, Hela's glare wavered. Cecelia gestured to her cell. "You are locked up in a cage, powerless, with no one to care whether you live or die. Your reign of manipulation and terror is over."

Raising her head high, Cecelia turned away from her stepmother, walking away without ever looking back.

"This will not be over!" Yelled Hela desperately behind her back. "You will all pay for this, I swear it! Come back here girl! I am not finished speaking with you!"

"Yes, but I am finished speaking with you," said Cecelia to herself. "I am done with you altogether, in fact."

Loki and the guards were waiting for her.

"How are you?" asked Loki, rushing to her side.

"Much better then she is," stated Cecelia, jerking her head back to Hela's cell, where she could still be heard hurtling insults in her madness.

"We will ensure she stays here for her eternity," said Loki reassuringly, cupping Cecelia's hand carefully in his own. "She will not be able to harm you, or anyone else for that matter."

"It is more then she deserves," said Cecelia, bowing her head. "But it is so good to be free from her."

Loki gently lifted her chin, meeting her striking green eyes with his own. "I will never let any harm come to you again," he promised her sincerely.

"I know," she smiled, taking his hand carefully in her own.

Throwing his arm protectively over her, Loki steered her to the exit. The two made their way happily out of the dungeons, leaving the rugged and jeering prisoners rioting behind them.

"I have something for you," said Loki, once they had made their way out to sunlight.

"Really?" asked Cecelia curiously, turning to face him. "What is it?"

"Well, it is actually yours, I seem to have kept it from you quite longer then appropriate." From the pocket of his tunic, Loki pulled out a brown cloth and handed it to her.

"My purse!" exclaimed Cecelia, taking the satchel from him and examining it closely. The golden symbols marked the edges just as they always had, and she felt her eyes watering as she peered down at them. "My father gave this to me," she said absentmindedly.

"I remember," said Loki. "You told me of the symbol and it's meaning. How you could be strong like a warrior yet delicate like a flower."

"I think about that a lot," admitted Cecelia.

"You do?" inquired Loki, looking at her with interest. Cecelia nodded.

"I think everyone has a bit of warrior, and a bit of flower in them. It's finding the balance that is hard. I feel like you let your steel warrior guide you too much; you always seem to guard you true feelings behind a wall of secrets. Afraid of what others might think if you voiced them."

"And you do not do the same?"

"I used to," she admitted. "Until you made me stop thinking so much and got me to simply act on my feelings."

"I suppose I could say the same," conceded Loki. "When I am with you, I do not feel the need to guard my thoughts or emotions. I can just be happy being myself."

"Perhaps you should try being more of yourself around your family. Around your father and Thor."

Loki laughed. "I'm not sure how my oaf of a brother would like that."

"You do not need to care how he would like it," pointed out Cecelia. "That is the thing. I saw how you defended your family, how you fought to protect your father. You care for them and they care for you. You all are just too afraid to show it."

"Perhaps," said Loki ambiguously, as he led her back inside the palace.

Cecelia shook her head and laughed to herself as she looked down at her purse. Being a steel flower seemed ridiculous, but it was possible. Getting Loki to come out from behind his mask of emotionless steel had seemed impossible, but she had managed it. She knew she could help him repair whatever damage had been inflicted on his relationship with his father and brother, and she planned to do her best to see that it was. And with luck, she would have a long time by Loki's side to see her plan carried out.

* * *

A/N-Aww! Some more Loki/Cecelia loviness and a confrontation with Hela! Things are wrapping up...I'm so sad! But I plan on writing more stories very soon, maybe even an orginal this time! I'll keep you all posted! Hope everyone is having a lovely May! :)


	20. Chapter 20

Frigga had by now become an expert in planning rushed events. She had memorized the names of all the best flower-arrangers in the city, and could practically walk her way through planning a several-course meal and guest list in her sleep. All of her skills would be put to use to make sure the sudden wedding was a success.

Many of the nobles of the land were surprised when they received their invitations. After the attack on the main hall and confusion of Loki's previous engagement, they had not expected any royal celebrations so soon.

And yet it seemed the two lovebirds had no doubts at all about their plans, so it was far in the hands of anyone else to stop them.

Frigga had fussed when her son announced they wanted to be wed as soon as possible, worrying about finding a dressmaker who could work fast enough to fit their needs.

However, Cecelia had soothed her by telling her she already knew exactly who she wanted to make it.

And looking into the mirror, she knew she could not have made a better choice.

"Frija, it is beautiful," she murmured, twirling lightly so that the full skirt of lace and tulle flew out around her.

"It was an honor to make, princess," bowed Frija.

"Oh please stop with the formalities," laughed Cecelia, coming to a stop and throwing out her arms to steady herself from her dizzying spin. "And I am not a princess yet."

"You be soon, though." Frija reminded her.

A crash sounded behind them, and they both turned to find Astrior or bending over a pile of spilled sewing pins, carefully scooping them back into the clay pot they had just fallen out of.

"How is she doing?" asked Cecelia out of the corner of her mouth.

"Well enough, I suppose." shrugged Frija. "It's a lot to get used to, but she'll manage."

Cecelia nodded and glanced at the girl that, combined with her mother, had made her life a living hell for the past five years. She had been right in assuming Odin would not blame Astrior for Hela's crimes. Once being sure the young girl had no idea of the extent of her mother's plans, Odin pardoned her participation with Hela to try to woo Loki. Astrior was then offered a place at the palace, working as a seamstress. Since noblewomen all had to be trained in needlework, it seemed like a good place for her, having nowhere else to go. Frija, who had recently been promoted to Palace Seamstress after her stunning work of Cecelia's dress had been revealed, took Astrior or under her wing to train her.

Cecelia turned her back on her former foe and faced herself in the mirror again.

"How are you and Damian doing?" Cecelia asked, because she needed something to distract herself from the nerves forming in her stomach.

"We're doing just fine. He's such a sweet person, I love that about him." Frija got lost in her thoughts as she peered into an imaginary world. "And I love the sweet tarts he makes too," she added, shaking herself back into reality.

Cecelia laughed. "That is a happy advantage!"

Frija handed her a small bouquet of white, sweet-smelling flowers.

"Gardenias!" exclaimed Cecelia excitedly.

"Loki gave them to me to give to you," explained Frija. "He wanted to give them to you himself, but I told him it was bad luck to see the bride on her big day."

"Thank-you," smiled Cecelia. "I love Loki, but I do not know if I could stand seeing him right now."

"Are you getting cold feet?"

"No! Not at all! I'm just...not used to such a ceremony. I do not know how to prepare myself, or if I'll be ready to look the part."

"You look wonderful," assured Frija.

"Wonderful enough to be Princess of Asgard?"

"You always looked like that," laughed Frija. "From the first day you arrived, you carried yourself with a graceful air."

Cecelia laughed nervously. She began to fuss with her bouquet before Frija snapped at her to stop it or the flowers would look mussed. Cecelia smiled at that, grateful to have her friend here to help her prepare, and grateful she would be by her side through all the new challenges being a Princess would bring.

For the first time in her life at the palace, Cecelia was not late to the main hall. She still entered last, but she was right on time. Once everyone was in their seats, the guards flung open the double-doors in an elaborate manner, and all eyes turned to her in Frija's beautiful dress.

The musicians began to play, and Cecelia began her long walk down the aisle to be Loki's bride. She felt eyes upon her, felt them watching her, but this time it was different. This time she was walking towards Loki, certain, for once in her life, that everything was going to turn out happily for her.

She picked out Frija's happy face in the crowed, seated beside a cheerful Damian. She saw Astrior or a little ways down, and offered her a small smile. She saw Lord Igor a few rows up, flirting with a court lady. She was glad to see that he had not let his previous wife's unfortunate evilness stop him from living his life. Even if that meant his eyes were not solely on her on this day.

She saw Thor and Frigga and Odin, looking at her happily as she made her way past them. Lastly she saw Loki, and focused only on him the rest of her way down. His green eyes called to her magically just as they had when she had first met him. His power over her pulled her the rest of the way down the aisle as though she were a weightless bird flying back to its nest.

People told her later that the ceremony was beautiful, but she could not remember a thing from it. It all seemed to pass in an instant. One second she was looking into Loki's beautiful eyes, and the next he was kissing her, and people were cheering.

* * *

A/N-Only one more chapter till the story is over! I'm sad to be done, but also happy that I had you amazing readers along for the journey! Hope you enjoyed the happy wedding.


	21. Chapter 21

"Where are we going, Loki?" asked Cecelia curiously, as he pulled her through the dark gardens. "People will be wondering where we've gone off too."

"The ceremony's over," he answered. "Everyone has either left by now or is too drunk to remember their name. We won't be missed."

That was true. The night of partying had been full and fun, but the barrels of wine had started fogging people's minds hours ago.

"Then it is getting late, shouldn't we be getting to…ah..." Cecelia paused, too embarrassed to finish.

Loki stopped his quick stride and buried his face in her neck, kissing his way up to her ear.

"To bed?" he asked in a gravelly tone.

Cecelia was glad it was dark so he could not see her blush as she nodded.

"Don't worry," he whispered, still close to her neck so she could feel his breath. It made her skin tingle. "There will be plenty of time for that later. Now, follow me." and he tore himself away from her, leaving her neck exposed to the cold as he pulled her along the path.

Cecelia followed him happily, skipping her way along the road and marveling at the stars above.

Loki led her to the center of the gardens, where a ring of benches surrounded an elaborately carved fountain. The gentle rush of the water created a soothing sound, and blended well with the harmony of crickets and night owls coming from the nearby forest.

Loki turned to face her. His figure was silhouetted in the night, but she could still make out his handsome features, and his eyes still glowed. "I thought you might enjoy another dance by the water," he said to her. "But I thought you might not want to trek out through the forest in your wedding dress, so this was the best I could do."

Cecelia wanted to say that she would have been happy to trek anywhere, as long as he was with her. Instead, she smiled and said, "This is perfect."

Cecelia placed her arms around his neck. Loki took her by the waist and held her close, as the two began to sway.

"I never thought I would be here, with you as my wife, when I met you in the forest for the first time," he said. He had a tone of remembrance in his voice.

"Are you happy it turned out this way?" Cecelia asked.

Loki turned to her with a look she could not read in the dark.

"Happier," he answered.

He spun her away in the dark, then pulled her back to him and pulled her into a graceful dip.

Cecelia laughed. She loved the way he danced with her.

"I love how things have changed," he continued. "I love that I can do this now…" He kissed her quickly, somehow finding her lips in the dark "…whenever I want."

Cecelia embraced him tightly, running her fingers through his hair, which he always wore naturally now, just for her. His hand rubbed circles on her back as they kissed.

Cecelia smiled mischievously as she broke the kiss. "So, what was that about a bed?"

* * *

A/N-Okay, so it got a little more T rated nearer the end there, but they're married now guys!

A big thank-you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed my story! I am so happy that I finally finished my first full-length Thor story. I had such a fun time thinking the plot through and writing it all! I am so happy to have a medium for my storywriting on this wonderful site with all you amazing people!

This story might be over, but I hope to write more soon! Keep an eye out on my page if you want to see future stories!

Have a wonderful 2018 summer FanFiction!


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